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Frontispkct 




PHILADELPHIA: 


THB AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION, 

1122 Chestnut Street. 

New York; 10 Bible House. 


1894. 


[Copyright, 1894, by The American Sunday-School Union.] 





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1 •• • 


CONTENTS 


K>« 

CHAPTER I. 

Davy’s Little Champion 7 

CHAPTER II. ‘ 

In the Ogre’s Castle i6 

CHAPTER III. 

Ever so Kind and Good 34 

CHAPTER IV. 

Only a Kitten 41 

CHAPTER V. 

Evangeline ,58 

CHAPTER VI. 

A Rainy Day 65 

CHAPTER VII. 

Mrs. Greenaway’s Thatched Roof 78 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Mollie’s Mistake 87 

CHAPTER IX. 

Under the Greenwood Trees 100 

CHAPTER X. 

Papa’s Portrait 105 

CHAPTER XL 

The Rector’s Visit * 113 

CHAPTER XII. 

Evans turns Deserter 120 


( 5 ) 


6 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

Poor Dickie! 124 

CHAPTER XIV. 

In Mrs. Harriss’s Cottage 130' 

CHAPTER XV. 

Trouble at the Rectory ... ... 140 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Nurse and Patient 147 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Good-bye ! 155 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Chiefly about John Thomas 164 

CHAPTER XIX. 

A Great Disappointment 172 

CHAPTER XX. 

Lost in the Snow 181 

CHAPTER XXL 

Babes in the Wood 187 

CHAPTER XXII. 

The Master of “The Turrets” 200 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

The Ogre’s Christmas Gift 205 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Very Beautiful and Wonderful . . . . , 213 

CHAPTER XXV. 

London Town ; . . 226 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Eva’s Plan 245 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

Mr. Bobby and “ Lucky Sam ” 258 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Christmas Eve in London 275 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

Christmas Day at Lavender 294 

CHAPTER XXX. 

Happy ever After! . . . . . . , 306 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


CHAPTER I. 

Davy’s little champion. 

“A very old Ogre lives in that tower, 

He eats nothing but mustard and batter, 

And why should he choose such very odd fare ? 

I will tell you — he’s mad as a hatter ! ” 

Mrs. Sale Barker. 

T he soft, golden sunshine of June streamed broadly 
through the branches of the tall chestnut trees in 
the garden of the manse at Lavender, and fell in radiant 
bars of light upon the smooth green lawn before the 
old house. 

f 

It fell too upon the little figures of two children who 
stood under the trees, talking very earnestly. 

The one was a little girl, whose birthdays had lately 
numbered seven — a small maiden with a pretty, pensive 
face, thoughtful eyes of gray-blue, shaded by dark lashes, 
and a wealth of golden-brown curling hair that reached 
below her waist. 

She wore a brown holland frock, very simply made — 
in fact it could hardly lay claim to a more dignified 
appellation than blouse ” — and a wide-brimmed coarse 
straw hat that very prettily framed her demure, earnest 
little face. And a very earnest little face it was, curious- 
ly so for such an exceedingly youthful person as was the 
little Lady of Lavender. 


( 7 ) 


8 


THE LITTLE LAD Y OF LA VENDER. 


The other child was a boy, some two years her senior. 
He was usually a very lively-looking individual, but on 
this June morning he certainly could not be so described. 

He was a little lad with a shock of red hair and a 
freckled complexion, but he possessed a very honest pair 
of brown eyes. His coat was thrown off, his shirt 
sleeves turned up, and in his hands he Md a gardener’s 
broom quite as tall as himself. 

He was speaking, and his voice was mil of sorn^‘and 
anxiety. 

*‘Sure, Miss Eva, ’twill break granny’s heart. She 
was that set on Davy, she was. An’ he’s growing a big 
lad — able to earn good wage. All for a bit of a rabbit 
too ! It do seem hard, miss ! Oh dear, whatever will 
we do ? ” 

And the youthful gardener, rubbing his fists into his 
eyes, turned away to hide the tears that filled them. 

“What made David shoot the rabbit, Dickie?” the 
little girl asked, as she looked sympathetically at the 
down-bent ruddy head. 

“ Sure it was for granny’s supper. Miss Eva ! ” an- 
swered Dickie with great simplicity. 

“ But it wasn’t his. He shouldn’t take what wasn’t 
his ! ” objected the little listener. 

“ Squire Ransom he’ve got more rabbits and sich 
like than he knows what to do with. Davy says so, 
and Davy he knows. Squire Ransom is that mean 
and stingy. Miss Eva, he never gives the poor folk 
nothin’. He sends all his game away to Lunnon to be 
sold, and he never gives away a haporth of nothin’. 
He’s orful mean.” 

The little girl was silent. 

“ Joe he craved for a bit of rabbit, and granny she han’t 
nothin’ to give him o’ the like,” continued Dickie. “ So 


DAVY'S LITTLE CHAMPION. 


9 


Davy he says ‘ stay a bit/ sez ’e. He goes out, and 
in half an hour back he comes with a fine little 
brown bunny and gives it to granny. ‘ I hope ye’ll 
enjoy that, Joe,’ he says. ‘ It’s cost me dear that there 
rabbit has,’ and then he goes out agin in the garden ; 
and not twenty minutes later. Miss Eva, down comes one 
of Squire Ransom’s keepers and a p’leece constable and 
takes him away for a poacher. They’ve put him in 
prison. Miss Eva, along with thieves and wicked people, 
and granny says they’ll very like send ’im across the 
seas, and we will never see him again ! ” 

This recitation of his woes had worked Dickie up 
into a perfect fever of misery, and with the last words 
he burst into a torrent of tears, and bowing his red head 
on the top of his big broom, lamented freely. 

“ Don’t cry, Dickie, don’t cry ! ” said Eva hurriedly, 
and laid her little hand gently on the boy’s shoulder. 
‘‘ Grandfather will help you. I will ask him to. Grand- 
father is very clever, you know, Dickie ; he is sure to be 
able to help you,” she added eagerly. 

Dickie looked up at her rather hopelessly. 

They say as Davy’s no better than a thief/’ he said 
with a sob in his voice. “The rector he won’t help 
thieves ! ” 

“ I think he will help Davy,” said Eva encouragingly. 
“Grandfather always likes to help people that are in 
trouble. Stay here, Dickie, while I run into the house 
and find him.” 

The rector sat at a writing-table which was placed 
in the window of his pleasant study. It was a dimly- 
lighted, old-fashioned room, with book-lined walls and 
narrow lattice windows. There was a perfume of 
mingled mignonette and sweet pea from the flowers 
that grew in the border just outside, and straggling 


lO 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


across the window frame were sprays of trailing honey- 
suckle and great clusters of little white seven-sister 
roses. 

. The snows of many winters had left their mark on 
the old rector’s hair ; and the vicissitudes of a long and 
active life had lined his forehead ; but these things had 
not dimmed the brightness of his kind gray eyes nor 
made his handsome old face hard or stern. 

He was writing his sermon for the morrow, for this 
was Saturday morning, and had just paused to consider 
some question that could not be solved without due 
consideration, when his meditations were interrupted by 
his little granddaughter, who, coming into the room, 
advanced to where he sat and said in her thoughtful 
old-fashioned way — 

"‘Are you very busy, grandfather dear? Have you 
time to talk to me about something very ’portant ? ” 

There was an unusual ring of anxiety in Eva’s tone ; 
and, looking up, he saw that her face was grave and 
clouded. 

“ I have always time to talk to my little girl,” he 
said, as he pushed back his chair and lifted the child on 
his knee. 

“ What is it, Eva ? ” 

It’s poor Dickie, grandfather dear ; at least it’s poor 
Davy too, ’ she explained rather confusedly. 

“ Poor Davy ! ” repeated the rector. “ Who has been 
talking to you about David Harriss, Eva?” he asked 
with some vexation in his voice. 

“ Dickie has. Oh, grandfather dear, poor Dickie is so 
unhappy, and so is old Mrs. Harriss. Do you know 
that Davy is locked up in prison, and Mrs. Harriss 
thinks they will send him away over the sea and she will 
never see him any more.” 


DAVYDS LITTLE CHAMPION. 


II 


''Yes, I have seen Mrs. Harriss ; I am very sorry for 
her and for the lads,” said the rector. “ But Dickie 
should not distress you about these things, my child. 
Poor David ! He acted wrongly, and I fear he will 
suffer heavily for it,” he added, speaking more to himself 
than to the little girl. 

“Won’t Mr. Ransom forgive Davy if you ask him?” 
said Eva suddenly. 

“ I called to see him yesterday and again this morn- 
ing, but each time I received the same reply — ‘ Not at 
home.’ Mr Ransom lives in perfect retirement, Eva. 
He sees nobody. It is of no use my calling.” 

“ Will they send Davy over the sea ? ” 

“ That I cannot tell you, my dear. He will take his 
trial — there is no help for it. I fear that the law will be 
hard on him too, for although only a lad he is an old 
offender. From what I understand he is a regular 
poacher ; I only wonder that he was not caught before 
now. I am very sorry for the lad — very grieved about 
it,” concluded the rector sadly. 

“ Isn’t it dreadful, grandfather dear, to think that a 
boy like Davy should be locked up in prison and never 
see his friends any more. Oh, I think it’s dreadful ! ” 
And with a little shudder Eva hid her face in her hands. 

“ You musn’t distress yourself, my child. You must 
not take things so terribly to heart ! ” cried the rector 
anxiously. He knew her tender heart, and thought that 
she was crying. He was very much surprised when an 
instant, later she looked up quite brightly and said, 
slipping down from his knee — 

“I think I will go and finish my gardening now, 
grandfather dear. I want to go for a ride d’reckly after 
lunch. I’m going on the downs to get some bluebells. 
You won’t want me this afternoon, grandfather dear; 


12 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


will you ? ” she added rather anxiously as she lingered 
in the doorway. 

“ No, my pet ; go and enjoy your ride.” The rector 
watched her run across the sunny lawn and disappear 
beyond a belt of shrubs, with the thought that a child’s 
sorrow and a child’s sympathy are but transient emotions 
after all ; and that he had been mistaken in thinking Eva 
took things too much to heart. 

“ Dickie ! Dickie ! ” called Eva, standing on the sunlit 
grass, and shading her eyes with her hand as she looked 
around in search of him. 

“ Yes, Miss Eva,” replied a rather dismal voice, and 
Dickie came up a side path to the lawn, his big broom 
over his shoulder, traces of very recent tears on his 
freckled countenance. 

Yes, Miss Eva.” 

He looked at her eagerly, for there was that in her 
pretty face which inspired him with sudden hope. 

“ Dickie, can you keep a secret ? ” Eva asked, looking 
very solemn. 

Oh yes, Dickie could keep a secret faithful. Only 
try him ! The boy’s voice trembled with eager hope. 

You must not even tell your granny, Dickie.” 

“ No, not even granny ; I promise. What be the 
secret. Miss Eva, please? Is it — is it ’bout our Davy ? ” 

“Yes, it’s about Davy. Listen, Dickie. Grandfather 
says he has been to Squire Ransom’s house, but he 
couldn’t see him. He wasn’t at home, though grand- 
father went twice. Now this afternoon some one else is 
going. Who do you think some one else is, Dickie ? ” 

Dickie couldn’t guess. 

“ Dickie ! ” said Eva. She stood on tiptoe and whis- 
pered mysteriously into the eager boy’s ear. “ Dickie, 
Fm going ! ” 


DAVYDS LITTLE CHAMPION, 


13 


*‘Oh, Miss Eva ! ” cried Dickie. “ Oh ! ” 

He was too much taken aback to say more, but there 
was a world of expression in the ejaculation as he 
uttered it. 

“ Well, and why not ? ” asked Eva with wide open 
eyes. “ Why shouldn’t I go, Dickie ? ” 

Instead of replying, Dickie asked another question. 

“ Have ye ever seen Squire Ransom, Miss Eva ? ” he 
said earnestly. 

No, I have not seen him,” answered Eva in some 
surprise. “ But why, Dickie ? I suppose he is the same 
as other people, isn’t he ?” 

Bless yer heart, no. Miss Eva,” said Dickie with an 
awe-inspiring grimace. Why, he’s a ogre, he is.” 

No, you don’t say so ! ” cried Eva in a startled tone. 

It was small wonder that the little girl was startled, 
for she had read of ogres in fairy tales, and very awful 
people they seemed from all descriptions to be. She 
took Dickie’s expression quite literally, and accordingly 
pictures of Squire Ransom as a stumpy, green-eyed 
monster with a hump on his back and an insatiable 
appetite for small children instantly arose in her imagina- 
tive little mind. 

“ How very drefful, Dickie ! ” she cried. 

Yes, it’s dreadful,” Dickie acquiesced dismally. 

Is he very horrible to look at ?’ ’ Eva asked in an 
extremely anxious tone. Has he ’normous teeth and 
a green wig, like the picture of the Ogre Grindemup in 
my new fairy-tale book ? ” 

“ I ain’t seen ’im. Miss Eva,” Dickie replied. “ But I 
dessay he’s awful lookin’. They say he’s just savage for 
to speak to.” 

“ Has he — Dickie, has he eaten many children yet ? ” 
Eva asked tremulously. 


14 the little lady of la vendee. 

Dickie looked at her in some surprise. 

“ Eaten ’em, Miss Eva ! ” he repeated in a puzzled 
tone. 

“ Oh yes,” said Eva. In my book it said that the 
ogre would devour ten or a dozen children every day. 
Is Squire Ransom that sort of ogre, Dickie ? ” 

Don’t know ’bout that. Miss Eva,” Dickie replied 
cautiously ; ” but I guess the children don’t give him no 
chance of eating of ’em, anyhow. They never goes nigh 
his house. They’re too frightened. Don’t you go. Miss 
Eva. Your grandpa he wouldn’t like you to go ; and 
whatever would he say to me if harm come of it ? ” he 
added anxiously. 

Eva was silent for a moment. She was thinking of 
the ogre, and of the descriptions which she had read of 
Ogre Grindemup in the fairy-tale book. Tears filled her 
pretty eyes and her lip quivered. 

She looked at Dickie. His face was very eager, but 
there was an expression of doubt in his eyes. He 
could not beg Eva not to go when he knew that by 
going she might save Davy — Davy his big brother 
who was the stay of the house and the bread-winner p 
Davy whom granny and Joe were weeping for, and 
who was shut up in the dark prison awaiting a trial 
that must certainly end sadly for him and for those 
who loved him. And yet how could he ask his little 
mistress to go to that dreadful house, to brave the ogre 
in his castle ? So Dickie too was silent, and for a mo- 
ment no sounds but the singing of the birds in the 
high trees overhead and the leaves gently rustling at 
the light touch of the westerly breeze fell upon the 
summer air. 

Then Eva spoke. “ Dickie,” she said, ** I’ll go.” She 
uttered a little sigh. 


£>A VV^S LITTLE CHAMPION. 


^5 


Don’t ’e go if yer don’t want to, Miss Eva,” Dickie 
said feebly. 

“ I do want to,” said the little girl. “ I — I am not very 
much afraid,” she added with a brave smile. 

Not afraid of the ogre! Dickie fairly gasped at 
her courage. “ Bless you, miss, you’re a plucky one 1 ” 
he cried admiringly. 

” Well,” said Eva, ” I’m afraid I’m not very plucky, 
Dickie ; but you see” — and here she gave another little 
sigh — “I’m not ’zackly ’customed to ogres, and you 
know how it is when you aren’t ’customed to things, 
Dickie.” 

“ They say as eels gets accustomed to being biled,” 
remarked Dickie reflectively. 

“ Oh no, poor things ! ” cried Eva with a little 
shudder. “ They couldn’t possibly. But going to see 
ogres isn’t so bad as being boiled, you know ? ” she 
added, half questioningly. 

“ No ? — well, p’r’aps not,” Dickie agreed in a rather 
doubtful tone. 

“ You ain’t frightened, Miss Eva, are you ? ” he asked 
suddenly. 

“ No,” she answered, “ I’m not frightened now. I 
was, just a little, a few minutes ago, but I’m not now. 
You see, Dickie, I shall ask God to take care of me, and 
I am sure he will.” 

“ Yes, Miss Eva,” said Dickie reverently. His young 
mind, trained with the rector’s gentle care, shared her 
childlike faith. 


CHAPTER 11. 


IN THE OGRES CASTLE. 


“ Gentleness is more successful in all its enterprises than violence.” 


— Locke. 



HE village of Lavender, where lived little Evangeline 


A Herbert with her grandfather, the rector, was a tiny 
hamlet nestling at the base of the South Downs. 

These South Downs, a long, low range of hills, 
stretched far away for many miles until they reached a 
great town by the sea, which Eva had never visited but 
of which she had heard much. From all accounts this 
town was a very gay and fashionable place, a sort of 
London by the sea, and Eva, who knew no wider world 
than Lavender, thought that, from all the descriptions 
she heard, Brighton must indeed be a wonderful city. 

The downs, in the locality of Lavender, were very 
richly wooded, and the copses of young pine and larch 
trees that covered their undulating slopes gave them a 
luxuriant and picturesque appearance. 

Beautiful woods they were, and the “ Lavender folk ” 
were exceedingly proud of them. Woods where all the 
year round, either in summer’s heat or winter’s frost, one 
might well enjoy a ramble; woods that in summer 
were blue with harebells and golden with primroses, 
where in spring the first sweet violets were to be dis- 


(i6) 


IN THE OGRE'S CASTLE. 


7 


covered, and where in autumn the village children 
gathered the best blackberries and hazel nuts to be 
found for miles around. 

The old baronet to whom this property belonged, and 
who was called the Lord of the Manor, did not often 
visit his estate, but he did not neglect it, and the game, 
which was very plentiful, he caused to be carefully 
preserved. 

Two years before that June morning when Eva and 
Dickie held their important conversation under the 
chestnut trees on the Rectory lawn, the quiet villagers of 
Lavender had been startled by the arrival of a large 
company of London work-people, and they had been still 
more surprised when they heard what caused their visit. 

This was what they heard. The Lord of the Manor 
had sold a few acres — some eight or ten — to a certain 
Captain Ransom, a retired Indian officer, and Captain 
Ransom was about to build a house on this land in 
which he intended to live. 

“ He is an invalid,” said the foreman of the work- 
people confidentially to his friend, the landlord of The 
Blue Lion, as they partook of a sociable half-and-half 
in the seclusion of the inn parlor. “ Quite an invalid, 
I understand. And he wishes for retirement.” 

In due time Captain Ransom’s house was finished and 
made ready for habitation ; and if the officer desired 
retirement he certainly found it, for “ The Turrets,” as 
his place was called, was built high on the downs quite 
two miles above the village, and was right in the middle 
of a large plantation of well-grown firs. 

Rather a dismal spot some people would have called 
it, but Captain Ransom did not appear to think so, and 
he built a very high wall all round his grounds, which 
quite hid his house from the outside world, excepting 
z 


1 8 THE LITTLE LADY OF LA FENDED. 

the little towers or turrets which gave it its name, and 
these one could see above the wall looking like so many 
sentry boxes, while here and there the top of an un- 
usually high chimney was just visible. 

Captain Ransom came to his house, but so far as the 
Lavender people were concerned he might as well have 
stayed away. They never saw him, and it was reported 
that he had not been beyond his carefully walled-in 
grounds since the evening when he first arrived at The 
Turrets. 

Captain Ransom’s servants were uncommunicative and 
rather grim, elderly people, and not at all inclined to 
gossip with the villagers, so that the inner life at The 
Turrets was quite unknown to the people of Lavender; 
and because of this. Captain Ransom’s household be- 
came invested with an air of mystery, and all sorts of 
stories concerning its inmates were soon rife in the 
village. 

It is a well-known fact that ignorance is the hotbed of 
superstition, and the simple village folk who saw a bogy 
in every white cow or horse they happened to pass after 
nightfall, and shivered at the sight of a twinkling glow- 
worm, were quite ready to believe that there was some- 
thing very uncanny about the house on the downs, and 
that the less they had to do with the place the better it 
would be for them. 

This feeling grew and grew until any village child 
would sooner walk five miles round than pass The 
Turrets after nightfall, and it would have required an 
enormous bribe to induce any one of the Lavender folk, 
man, woman, or child, to cross the threshold of the 
mysterious house, even in the friendly light of day. 

So two years had passed away, and no one knew 
any more of Captain Ransom than on the day when he 


IN THE OGRESS CASTLE. 


19 


took up his residence at The Turrets, and he had grad- 
ually come to be regarded as a necessary evil, when 
there arose the scandal and excitement in which David 
Harriss was the chief actor. 

Captain Ransom rented some shooting from the 
Lord of the Manor, and when his keepers found David 
Harriss, gun in hand, potting the captain’s rabbits, they 
very naturally mentioned the matter to their master. 
Equally naturally, or so it seemed to him. Captain 
Ransom communicated with the police at the small 
neighboring town of Wurderton, and the result was 
that young Harriss was arrested and shut up in prison 
to await the autumn assizes. 

There was a strong feeling in favor of Harriss in 
the village. He was known to be “ a bit too free with 
his gun,” but after all he was only a lad — not seventeen, 
and the gentry ” had lots of game and to spare — that is, 
according to Lavender folk. 

Davy was also a hardworking and sober lad, and 
he was wonderfully good to his old granny and his 
little brothers. And he was that good-natured — 
always ready with a helping hand and a cheerful 
word. Kind to the children too, and that thoughtful 
— it was rare in such a bit of a lad. 

This is what the village folk said. They all had 
a good word for Davy. But had Davy been a far 
less popular person than he was the villagers would 
certainly have taken his part, for they one and all 
hated and feared Captain Ransom, whom they regarded 
as an alien and an interloper. 

In a large lofty room of The Turrets lay, on a sofa 
that had been drawn close to the window, the master 
of the house. 


20 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


The sunshine of a cloudless June afternoon was 
bathing the village of Lavender in a perfect ocean of 
light, but it could not penetrate the thick growth of 
tall pine trees that surrounded the house on the downs ; 
and here it was all sombre shade and deeper shadows 
— a curious contrast to the golden world outside. 

The figure that lay on the sofa in the window was 
tall and well formed, but a nearer view would have 
shown it to be a perfectly helpless one. Captain 
Ransom could move his head and arms, but that was 
about all. Four years before he had met with a 
terrible accident while riding in India. His spine 
had been frightfully injured, and for many weeks his 
recovery seemed an impossibility. After a long time 
the doctors who attended him announced that he was 
out of danger. He would live, but he would hence- 
forth be a helpless cripple. The injury to his spine 
had resulted in partial paralysis. 

What this meant to the hitherto active and strong 
man, still in the meridian of life, is better imagined 
than described. When the sad information was, as 
gently as possible, broken to him, Captain Ransom only 
uttered one sentence, but that came from the bottom of 
his heart and was spoken in terrible bitterness of soul. 

I had rather die,” he said, and, repelling all sympathy, 
turned his face to the wall and begged to be left 
alone. 

Left alone ! People soon took him at his word, and 
it was a very lonely life indeed that this once active and 
popular officer lived at The Turrets: a selfish, miser- 
able, unloving, and unloved life — the life most calculated 
to make any man bitter, and sad, and cheerless. 

He had plenty of time to think of the fair-weather 
friends who had so easily deserted him ; but it never 


IN THE OGRESS CASTLE. 


21 


occurred to him that he himself had repelled sympathy 
and turned a cold shoulder to those who would fain 
have done their utmost to make him forget his 
calamity. It never occurred to him that, in the bright 
days of success that preceded the accident that had 
so changed his life, he had done very little to secure 
to himself real friends, and had rather courted those 
whose wealth or influence was likely to be of service to 
him. 

But to return to that June afternoon and the quiet 
figure lying on the invalid couch in a window of the 
large and handsomely-furnished room of The Turrets. 
He had been reading, but the book had slipped from his 
hand unheeded, and he was dreamily watching a flock 
of white pigeons that were disporting' themselves in the 
courtyard before the house, his mind far away in the 
regions of long ago, when a tap sounded on the door of 
the room and a tall footman entered. 

He was a very tall footman and he was as elaborately 
attired as though he belonged to the aristocratic pre- 
cincts of Belgravia; but he looked quite frightened 
as he addressed that helpless figure lying on the 
sofa. 

“ If you please, sir,” he said nervously, and stopped 
short. 

“ Well ! ” said his master sharply. 

“ If you please, sir, a young lady wishes to see you,” 
said the man desperately. 

“A young lady ! ” the master of The Turrets repeated 
in a voice of surprise ; then, his tone changing to exas- 
peration, he added — 

“You have my orders. Why do you come here 
fidgeting me? Don’t you know it’s as much as your 
place is worth ? ” 


22 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


“ The — the young lady seemed so particularly anx- 
ious to see you, sir,” faltered the man. 

“ Well, you can tell her I’m not at home,” said or 
roared Captain Ransom, “ that I don’t receive visitors. 
What are you waiting for, stupid ? ” 

“ You — you won’t see her, sir? ” 

“See her? No, I won’t see her. You can tell her 
that if you like. Be off, and don’t bother me any more. 
What, waiting still ; what do you mean by it, sirrah ? ” 
And raising himself, with an effort, on his arm, the 
master of The Turrets fairly glowered^ at his terrified 
domestic. ^ 

“ Sir,” said the man desperately, “ the — the young 
lady is a little girl — quite a little girl — and I thought 
maybe — ” he paused, covered with confusion at his own 
audacity. 

He expected that he would immediately receive a 
cushion at his head, or a string of abuse that would be 
even more unpleasant than that missile. 

He looked his surprise when his master said in a 
perfectly calm tone, and as though it were a matter of 
course, “You can show the young lady in here.” But 
he did not give time for a countermand of the order, 
and swiftly left the dreaded presence in search of the 
visitor. 

A moment later the door of the library was thrown 
wide, and John Thomas ceremoniously announced “ Miss 
Evangeline Herbert.” 

The master of The Turrets turned curiously to look 
at his visitor. A little girl, John Thomas had said; 
yes, she was quite a little girl certainly — a very little 
girl. 

This was what Captain Ransom saw. A tiny maiden 
of some seven summers, dressed in a neat and business- 


m THE OGRE'S CASTLE. 


23 


like-looking riding habit of Lincoln green, with a neat 
jockey cap of the same color on her head, and a smart 
little hunting crop in her hand. A little maiden with 
large serious eyes, and long golden-brown curls 
which, hanging over her shoulder, framed her pretty face. 

She advanced towards him with outstretched hand 
and a friendly confiding manner which was very surpris- 
ing indeed to Captain Ransom. 

“ How do you do, your highness ? ” she said with an 
air of polite interest. “ I am so glad I have found you 
at home.” 

“How do you do?” responded the astonished master 
of The Turrets as, too much taken by surprise to do 
anything else, he feebly returned her cordial hand- 
shake. 

“ Very well, thank you,” said Eva in her old-fashioned 
way. “ But I am afraid you are not feeling quite well. 
Have you got a cold ? ” 

“ No, IVe got a broken back,” the master of The 
Turrets responded briefly. 

“ Dear me,” said Eva sympathetically, “ that is very 
bad. I am afraid it must hurt you dreffly.” 

Captain Ransom gave an indistinguishable grunt. 

At this instant a heavy plush curtain which hung 
over an open doorway communicating with an inner 
room was brushed back, and there trotted into the room 
Captain Ransom’s favorite companion, a large and 
fierce-looking white bulldog whose extremely unprepos- 
sessing appearance would have struck terror into the 
hearts of most children. 

But Eva was not afraid of dogs. She had several of 
her own, and she had learned to regard them as friends. 
The hideous appearance of this to her unfamiliar speci- 
men only amused her, and when the bulldog trotted up 


24 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


to her with an inquiring sniff that was like a sentry’s 
“ Who goes there ? ” she bent down and patted the huge 
head, saying, with a little laugh that was like a ripple of 
sunshine from the summer world outside, “ What a very 
amusifi dog. How d’ye do, dear ? How are you ? 
What’s it’s name, if you please, your highness?” she 
asked very politely of Captain Ransom. 

“Her name’s Julia. Don’t you mind her? Aren’t 
you frightened?” asked the master of The Turrets, 
noticing with surprise that Julia, who was by no means a 
friendly animal as a rule, was licking the little girl’s hand 
and making other sociable canine demonstrations. 

“ Afraid ? Oh no,” said Eva. “ I like dogs. I have three 
of my own at home. Do you like dogs, your highness ? ” 

“Um — I prefer them to human beings,” replied Cap- 
tain Ransom. 

“ But what do you call me * your highness ’ for, eh ? ” 
he asked suddenly. 

Eva’s pretty face flushed rosy pink. 

“ I thought you would like it,” she said. “ The ogres 
in my fairy-tale book at home always liked to be called 
‘ your highness.’ ” 

It was Captain Ransom’s turn to flush then. 

“ Oh — er — the ogres liked it, did they ? ’’ he said in a 
peculiar tone. “ And who told you I was an ogre — eh ? ” 

“ Was it a secret ? ” Eva asked naively. “I’m so 
sorry. I didn’t know, you see. But I’m afraid every 
one in the village knows.” 

“Ah ! I daresay,” said the master of The Turrets with 
a grim smile. 

He looked very hard at Eva, but there was nothing 
but sweet simplicity to be read in her frank and pretty 
little face. No, she was evidently in earnest. She was 
not laughing at him. 


IN THE OGRE'S CASTLE. 


25 


** Sit down,” he said, pointing to a chair. “ I can't 
get up to give you a seat. I can’t move from this sofa. 
I’m a cripple.” 

“ I am so sorry,” Eva said with simplest sympathy, 
as she climbed up into a big armchair opposite to him, 
and settled herself comfortably as though for a prolonged 
chat. 

It must be drefful not to be able to run about 
and enjoy the beautiful summer, and see all the flowers 
and birds and things. Aren’t you very dull, your 
highness, in this great big house all alone ? In my 
book the ogre lived with his nine brothers, and they 
were all ogres too. It was nice for him to have 
companions, but — but ” She paused in some em- 

barrassment. 

” But what ? ” asked the invalid curiously. 

“ I was going to say,” said Eva rather timidly, “ that if 
there were ten ogres living here I don’t think I should 
much like coming to this house. You see, I daresay 
ogres are very nice, very nice indeed when you are used 
to them,” she added hastily. “ But then I’m not used to 
them. Do you know you’re the very first one I’ve ever 
seen ! ” 

‘‘ Ah, I am, am I ? And what do you think of me, 
eh ? ” asked the master of The Turrets with some 
interest. 

Eva looked at him earnestly while she caressed Julia’s 
bullet-like head with her soft little hand. 

“ Well,” she said confidentially, ‘‘you are not like what 
I thought you would be.” 

“ Indeed,” said Captain Ransom. “ And what did you 
think I should be like ? ” 

“ Oh well, you see,” Eva answered in a somewhat 
embarrassed manner, ‘‘ there was a very funny ’scription 


26 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


of the ogre in my fairy-tale book — a very funny 
’scription.” 

Please let me hear it,” said the ogre of The Turrets ; 
“ I feel a deep interest in the subject, I assure you.” 

Eva hesitated. She felt that this was a delicate 
matter. 

“ Perhaps you won’t think it polite ? ’ she said ques- 
tioningly. “ It isn’t a bit like you, though. The person 
that wrote that story could never have seen a real ogre. 
I shall know now what they’re like.” 

“ Pray let me have the description. I shall not be 
offended. I am unaccustomed to having my feelings 
spared,” said the master of The Turrets with a grim smile. 

Well, the person that wrote that story (it was very 
silly of them, and of course I know now they could 
never have seen a real ogre) — but they said that an ogre 
was a person with red hair and big green eyes and a 
hump on his back, and,” continued Eva, warming to her 
subject, “ they said that ogres spoke in voices that were 
so loud that they could be heard a hundred miles off, 
and — and ” 

“ And ? ” inquired her listener. 

“That they quickly swallowed up all the little chil- 
dren that came in their way,” concluded Eva with dilat- 
ing eyes. 

“ And that was the sort of person you expected to see 
when you came to my house ? ” asked the master of The 
Turrets curiously. 

Eva nodded her head vigorously. 

“That was just it,” she said. “And it made me feel 
a tiny bit — only a tiny bit — nervous, you see,” she added 
confidentially. “ But when I saw what kind of^n ogre 
you were, then I wasn’t in the least frightened, your 
highness ! ” 


IN THE OGRESS CASTLE. 


27 


Captain Ransom indulged in a grim smile. 

“ You needn’t feel nervous,” he said. ‘‘ I’ve not eaten 
any little girls yet. I’m afraid of them. They’re too in- 
digestible.” 

Eva gave a short sigh of relief. 

“ I’m so glad ! ” she said. ''Awfully glad. Now we 
can feel quite pleasant and comfortable together, can’t 
we?” 

The master of The Turrets gave a grunt of acquies- 
cence that was almost gracious. 

“ What made you come to see me, when you had 
heard such alarming descriptions of me?” he asked 
curiously. 

“ Oh, I came to see you about a very ’portant thing,” 
she answered earnestly. " It’s a very ’portant thing 
indeed.” 

Dear me ! ” ejaculated Captain Ransom in further 
surprise. 

What important mission could this mite of a child 
possibly be charged with ? He looked at her sharply. 
What if after all she was the tool of some designing 
member of society engaged in collecting for charities ? 

” If she is I won’t give her twopence,” said the master 
of The Turrets savagely to himself Not twopence. 
I’m not going to be duped and imposed upon.” 

It’s useless to apply to me for either subscrip- 
tions or donations,” he said abruptly. “ I tell you now 
in order to save you the trouble of applying to 
me.” 

Eva looked at him in utter bewilderment. She could 
neither understand nor imagine what he was talking 
about. 

" I am very sorry, your highness,” she said politely. 
“ But would you tell me what you mean ? I’m not very 


28 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


good at long words yet, you see — I’m not very old,” she 
added apologetically. I think you said something 
about nations ; will you please 'splain to me.” 

Um — er. I only made a trivial remark. Please con- 
tinue what you were about to say. You said it was 
something important, I think,” said the master of The 
Turrets hurriedly. 

“ I have come to talk to you about Davy,” said Eva in 
a voice that was at once confidential and anxious. 

“ Ah ! ” said the ogre encouragingly, “ and who’s 
Davy? ” 

“ Davy’s a boy,” Eva replied, “ and a great friend of 
mine and grandfather’s.” 

“ I don’t like boys,” said the master of The Turrets 
shortly. 

“ But you would like Davy if you really knew him,” 
Eva said with conviction. ” Oh, I’m sure you’d like 
him. He’s such a good boy — that is, generally. He is 
a great comfort to his old granny and his little brothers ; 
and now they are very very unhappy about him.” 

“Ah, indeed,” murmured Captain Ransom, without 
much apparent interest. 

“ His poor old granny is crying all the time, she’s so 
unhappy,” said Eva^ leaning forward in the big armchair 
and speaking with intense eagerness. “ Oh, don’t you 
know how it is when you love a person very much and 
they do something naughty and get punished for it ? ” 

The master of The Turrets looked very intently at the 
beautiful earnest face of his little visitor. 

“ So Davy’s been naughty, has he? ” he asked, feeling far 
more interest in Davy’s champion than in Davy himself. 

“ Yes,” said Eva sadly, “ I’m sorry to say he has. But 
the goodest people are naughty sometimes, aren’t they ? ” 
she added wistfully. 


IN THE OGRESS CASTLE. 


29 


“ And what has Davy done ? ” asked Captain Ransom, 
evading her question. 

“ Why, he’s the boy who shot your rabbit,” said Eva 
in a rather tremulous voice. 

It was, she felt, a critical moment, and she watched 
the ogre’s face with very anxious eyes. 

It was an immense relief to her when, instead of 
springing off the sofa like a jack-in-the-box and imme- 
diately swallowing her whole, he merely remarked — 

So he’s the boy who shot my rabbit, is he ? ” 

“Yes. I’m sure he is very sorry now,” said Eva 
gently. 

“Ah! I warrant he is,” assented Captain Ransom 
grimly. 

“ Oh, I am so glad you think so,” cried Eva, clasping 
her little hands eagerly. “ I’m so glad. I was afraid 
you wouldn’t believe he was ideally sorry.” 

Captain Ransom was silent. Turning his face to the 
window, he avoided the child’s straightforward gaze, which, 
he could not tell why, made him feel uncomfortable. 

“ I came here to-day,” said Eva in her clear, sweet 
voice, “ to ask you to forgive Davy. I thought p’r’aps 
if you knew that he was generally a good boy you 
would let him off this once.” 

Captain Ransom turned his head and looked sharply 
at the eager little face. 

“ Who sent you here ? ” he asked gruffly. 

“ No one sent me,” Eva replied in a surprised tone, 
while her candid eyes met his scrutinizing gaze un- 
flinchingly. “ I came because I wanted to help Davy 
and his little brothers and his poor old granny. I am 
so sorry for them — you see they are old friends of mine. 
No one knows I have come except Dickie, and he will 
keep it a secret.” 


30 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER, 


The Ogre of The Turrets still watched her face 
narrowly. 

“ And you came here alone, and expecting to see the 
terrible personage whom you so graphically described to 
me, just for this lad’s sake — to plead for him ? ” he asked 
in amazement. 

“ Yes,” said Eva simply, “ that’s why I came.” 

The master of The Turrets murmured something that 
was unintelligible to his little visitor. Then he said — 

“ What do you want me to do about this boy — this 
Davy ? ” 

“ I want you to let him out of prison,” Eva replied 
earnestly. ” Will you ? ” 

And she raised her pretty, pleading eyes to his face. 
A stern, hard face it was. A face that repelled most 
people, but Eva did not see it in that light. 

” Will you ? ” she repeated gently. 

“ If I let this boy go,” said the ogre slowly, and 
watching her eager face, “he will think that he is to 
shoot over my property with impunity ; and the other 
lads — young scoundrels — will be quick to follow his 
example.” 

“Oh no, they won’t,” said Eva with conviction. “ The 
boys of Lavender aren’t so bad as that. They will all 
be grateful to you if you forgive Davy, and they will 
try to show you how grateful they are — I am sure of 
that,” she added earnestly. 

“ H’m. I have not much confidence in human grati- 
tude,” the master of The Turrets remarked drily. 
“ Listen, child. If I let this young scamp go, I only do 
so because you ask me, and because you seem so anxious 
for his liberation. I detest boys — nasty, mischievous 
monkeys ; and they might all go to prison and stay 
there, so far as I am concerned. Well, that’s neither 


IN THE OGRESS CASTLE. 


31 


here nor there. Davy shall be set free because you ask 
me — does that please you ? ” 

“Oh, you good, kind ogre ! ” cried the little girl, 
clapping her hands for joy. “ Oh, how kind you are ! 
I should think you are the kindest ogre that ever 
lived ! “ 

The ogre smiled grimly. He was aware that there 
were people who entertained doubts on that point. 

“ How glad Dickie will be ! “ exclaimed Eva, clasping 
her hands, as she often did when very much in earnest. 
“ And how very s^prised ! ” 

“ Who’s Dickie ? ’’ asked the ogre. 

“ He’s Davy’s brother. A little boy who helps our 
gardener,’’ said Eva. “ Grandfather says he’s a very 
worthy lad,’’ she added in her old-fashioned way. 

Then she slid down from the big armchair. 

“ Off already ? ’’ the master of The Turrets asked, with 
actually a touch of disappointment in his tone. 

“ I will tell you why,’’ said Eva. “ I want to ride 
down and tell Davy’s granny before I go home to tea. 
Oh, you can’t think how "lighted she will be when she 
hears how kind you are ; I am sure she won’t know what 
to do for joy.” 

“ Well, you must explain to her that it is you she has 
to thank ; and that if it had not been for your interven- 
tion, her precious grandson would have got the punish- 
ment he deserves,” said the ogre. “ It’s only your 
pleading that has saved him. Some one else called 
on the same matter this morning — some old bloke [an 
old fellow] — I don’t remember his name, and I declined 
seeing him.” 

“ I think that must have been my grandfather,” Eva 
said. “ But he is not a bloke ; he is a clergyman. Are 
you sure that it was a bloke who came, your highness?” 


32 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


she asked politely. “ What is a bloke ? Is he something 
grand, like a rural dean ? " 

The ogre of The Turrets gave vent to a short laugh. 
He seemed very much amused at something. 

“ A bloke means — er — er — an old gentleman,” he 
explained rather lamely. “ Perhaps it was your grand- 
father who called. I don’t know. I didn’t see him. I 
never see any one.” 

“ Is that because you are out of doors so much ? ” 
Eva asked innocently. 

“ Um — yes, I suppose so,” replied the ogre in a rather 
embarrassed tone. 

“ Well, good-bye, Mr. Ogre, and thank you very much 
for being so kind to Davy ; I’m ever so much obliged to 
you,” said Eva, extending her hand. 

“Good-bye,” said the master of The Turrets. “Is 
your home far from here ? ” 

“ No. I live at Lavender Rectory with my grand- 
father. It’s only about two miles to Lavender, you 
know. May I come and see you another day, your 
highness ? ” 

“ Yes — come, by all means — by all means,” the ogre 
answered quickly. 

“I will come again soon, then,” said the little girl 
readily. “And then I shall be able to tell you how 
pleased Davy’s granny, and Dickie, and Joe were. You 
will be sure to like hearing about that.” 

They shook hands in a very friendly fashion, and then 
Eva stooped to pat the bulldog. 

“Good-bye, Julia,” she said, “I think you are a dear 
dog. Next time I will bring my doggies to see you.” 

“ If you ring that bell a servant will get your pony,” 
said the master of The Turrets. 

“ I can get him myself, thank you. I tied him up to 


IN THE OGRE'S CASTLE. 


33 


the gate,” said the little girl. “ Good-bye, your highness. 
I shall come again very soon.” 

From his couch in the window he watched the pretty 
little figure cross the courtyard attended by Julia, and 
disappear through the great gateway. Before she passed 
out of sight she stopped, and turning looked up at the 
window and waved her hand to him. 

The astonished porter at the gate could scarcely be- 
lieve the evidence of his senses when he saw his master 
return this friendly salute. 

He helped Eva to mount her pony in staring silence, 
and having seen her safely off the premises, returned to 
the gate lodge to talk the matter over with his wife. 

The servants at The Turrets found ample fund for 
gossip in the visit of an intrepid little girl, who dared to 
beard the ogre in his castle. Eva’s visit was a nine days’ 
wonder in Captain Ransom’s establishment. 

3 


CHAPTER III. 


EVER SO KIND AND GOOD. 


“ It is constantly said that human nature is heartless. Do not believe 
it. Human nature is kind and generous ; but it is narrow and blind ; 
and can only with difficulty conceive anything but what it immediately 
sees and feels.” — Ruskin. 

HE sun was low in the west, and the rooks were 



A flying home to roost — a black cawing mass 
against the soft pale blue sky. 

Round the gables of the old Rectory house Eva’s 
flock of white pigeons were wheeling and curveting 
before settling for the night ; and across the low meadow 
old Martin was driving homewards the rector’s cows, 
Primrose and Daisy, whistling as he went some quaint 
air of rustic celebrity. 

It was a warm and beautiful evening, and the rector, 
having finished writing his sermon for the next day, rose 
from his study chair and, crossing the hall, went out into 
the honeysuckle-covered porch. Philip, the venerable 
gardener, was mowing the grass with a machine, and his 
small assistant Dickie was busily sweeping the gravel 
drive before the house. 

'' Has Miss Eva come back from her ride yet, Philip? ” 
asked the rector. 


No, sir.” 
( 34 ) 


£V£/^ SO KIND AND GOOD. 


35 


She is late,” remarked the rector rather anxiously, 
and he walked slowly up the drive towards the gate, 
followed by a wistful look from Dickie. 

As the rector reached the gate, which opened into a 
shady lane, there came up the lane the bent figure of an 
old man dressed in a smock frock, and carrying on his 
shoulder a huge bundle of wood. 

“ Good evenin’, sir,” said the old man, touching his 
ragged hat respectfully. 

“ A pleasant evening,” remarked the rector in the kind 
and friendly tone that so endeared him to his poor pa- 
rishioners. “ Beautiful weather this for the hay.” 

” Ay, ay,” responded the old man, nodding his head. 
“ Be making yourn yet, your reverence ? ” 

“ I hope to begin on Monday if it remains fine. My 
little granddaughter is very anxious for it to begin,” said 
the rector with a smile. 

“ Bless the sweet little lady ! ” cried the old fellow 
warmly. She’s been like a ministering angel to my poor 
sick wife all this last winter, your reverence. A sittin’ 
with her and a readin’ the Bible so beautiful. And all the 
good puddin’s and medicine she’d bring. Janet says as 
there ain’t no other child on this earth like Miss Eva, 
sir. So thoughtful and so kind she be. Such a won- 
derful deal o’ thought she’s got for one of her age,” he 
added. 

I am glad she has been a comfort to Janet,” the rec- 
tor said quietly, but his thin cheek flushed. His little 
granddaughter was very dear to him, and he loved to 
hear her praises from his humble parishioners. 

I see Miss Eva’s pony outside The Turrets an hour 
ago,” old Giles remarked, after a moment. 

Outside The Turrets ! ” the rector repeated in aston- 
ishment. 


36 THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 

“ Why, sure, Squire Ransom’s place,” explained old 
Giles. 

Are you sure you made no mistake ? ” 

“ Noa, noa. I could tell Miss Eva’s bit of a pony any- 
wheer,” the old fellow answered with conviction. 

The rector wished him a kindly “ good-evening ” and 
turned back down the drive, walking more briskly than 
when he had come out to the gate. 

“ Philip ! ” he called to the gardener, who was busily 
running the mowing machine across the smooth, shadowy 
lawn. “ Philip ! ” 

Yessir.” And Philip stayed his labors and mopped 
his heated countenance with a big red handkerchief 

“ Did Miss Eva say in what direction she was going to 
ride?” 

“ No, sir. She didn’t say nothin’,” — with which unsat- 
isfactory reply Philip pushed forward the mowing ma- 
chine with a strenuous exertion, and sent it spinning and 
whirring across the lawn at such speed that he could 
scarcely keep up with it. 

The rector turned away with a dissatisfied sigh, and once 
more walked to the gate and looked up and down the lane. 
But there was no sign of the Shetland pony and his lit- 
tle mistress, so, glancing impatiently at his watch, Mr. 
Herbert walked quickly back to the lawn and spoke again 
to the gardener. 

Philip,” he said, “ if Miss Eva is not here in five 
minutes’ time you must go into the village and make in- 
quiries for her in one direction while I search in another. 
I do not like her staying out like this ; it is quite un- 
usual, and makes me anxious.” 

“ Very well, your reverence/’ answered the old gar- 
dener, as stopping in his work hfe looked up at the evening 
sky. The sky was his timepiece. “ Sure it’s late. The 


£y£/^ so KIND AND GOOD. 


37 


sun’s quite low. But, your reverence, Miss Eva be safe 
enough. She knows the road for miles around, so she 
couldn’t be lost, and who would lift a hand against her?” 
“ Ah ! ” 

The rector paused after this ejaculation, then said 
rather nervously — 

“ The fact is, Philip, Giles Greenaway, who has just 
passed along the lane and stayed to speak a few words 
to me, tells a singular tale. He affirms, and seems con- 
vinced of what he states, that he saw Miss Eva’s pony 
tied up outside that house on the downs — The Turrets. 
Now I am quite at loss to understand this.” 

Here Dickie, who had been a silent and unobserved 
listener, greatly astonished the rector by falling on his 
knees at his feet and bursting into floods of tears. 
Floods — they were quite cascades that ran down Dickie’s 
sun-tanned little countenance. 

‘‘ Oh sir,” he sobbed out incoherently, oh sir, I never 
thought as harm would come of it. Oh, I never did. 
Oh, oh ! ” And covering his face with his hands, Dickie 
wept loudly. 

“ What do you mean ? Speak out, boy ! ” cried the 
rector, stern and pale. 

Philip laid his hand on Dickie’s shoulder and shook 
him roughly. 

“ Answer when you’re spoke to, lad, will you ? ” he 
exclaimed indignantly. 

“ Oh, she’s gone to the ogre’s, and oh, if he’s hurt her, 
whatever will I do,” sobbed out Dickie confusedly. 

“ The ogre’s — the ogre’s ! ” repeated the rector in a be- 
wildered manner. “ Philip, what does the boy mean ? ” 

“Speak out and tell the master what you mean,” 
growled Philip, administering another shake. 

But Dickie was almoi»t too terrified to make any co- 


38 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


herent explanation, and, despite Philip’s shakings, it would 
probably have taken some time to elicit any further in- 
formation from him. It was therefore an immense relief 
to all when at this moment Eva, mounted on her pretty 
Shetland pony, cantered gayly down the drive. 

Dickie was up from his knees pretty quickly, and ran 
to take the pony’s bridle — his fear forgotten, his little 
freckled, tear-stained face expressed nothing but eager- 
aess. 

“ Miss Eva,” he cried breathlessly, “ Miss Eva ! ” 

“ It is all right, Dickie,” said the little girl with a 
happy smile. ‘‘ The ogre is a very kind gentleman, and 
he has promised me to send Davy safe home to you.” 

“ Eva,” cried the rector, “ where have you been ? My 
dear child ! ” 

Eva flung her arms around him and raised her face for 
a kiss. 

“ I’ve been to see the ogre, dear grandfather,” she said 
simply ; “ to ask him to forgive Davy and let him go. 
And, do you know, he is ever such a kind ogre. I had 
no idea ogres could be so kind, and when he understood 
about Davy, what a good boy he really is, and how he 
didn’t mean to be wicked when he shot the rabbit, he 
said he would forgive him, and send him back to his 
granny and his little brothers, who were so sad about 
him, at once. Isn’t he a kind ogre, grandfather dear ? ” 

Mr. Herbert was silent. 

“Are you vexed, grandfather dear ? Was I wrong to 
go without telling you ? ” Eva asked, her bright face 
clouding. “ I didn’t think I was wrong. I didn’t mean 
to be!” 

“ Not wrong, my sweet one ; but why did you not con- 
fide in me, Eva? ” 

“ I thought you would be anxious, grandfather dear, if 


£:V£/^ so GOOD AND KIND. 


39 


you knew I had gone to the ogre’s castle all alone,” she 
replied naively. 

“ Whom do you mean by the ogre, my dear ? ” asked 
the rector, looking puzzled, 

“ It’s Squire Ransom, please yer reverence,” explained 
Dickie, touching his cap. 

“ Oh, indeed,’ said the rector, smiling. 

He is a very kind ogre, grandfather dear,” cried Eva 
eagerly. 

“ Is he, my little girl ? I am glad to hear that,” the 
rector answered, looking earnestly at her bright up- 
turned face. 

“ May Dickie go home now, please ? ” said Eva. “ I ex- 
pect his granny and Joe want to talk to him about Davy. 
Oh, they are so happy, grandfather dear ! I went to their 
cottage and told them the good news, and oh, it was so 
nice to see how glad they were. I wish the ogre could 
have seen their faces,” Eva added, clasping her small 
hands. “ It would have made him so happy. I know it 
would. There is nothing gives so happy a feeling as 
helping other people, is there, grandfather dear ? ” 

And Mr. Herbert, looking at her sweet, serious little 
face, agreed that there was not. 

If Davy Harriss’s release caused a sensation in the vil- 
lage of Lavender, the story of how that release had been 
accomplished caused a far greater. 

But Eva assured every one — 

“You don’t know the ogre. He is really a very nice, 
kind gentleman.” 

And if they did not quite make up their minds that 
this was the correct reading to be taken of the master of 
The Turrets’ character, they did not tell the child so. 

Eva became a constant visitor at the great house on 


40 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


the downs, but no one guessed how “ the ogre ” looked 
forward to her visits. 

But when the rector one day paid a formal call at The 
Turrets he received the usual answer, “ not at home,” 
and knew, as he walked quietly away from the closed 
doors, that to him and the world in general they were 
closed doors still. To Eva only had they opened. Her 
bright presence was the single one desired — admitted. 

It never occurred to the kind old rector to prevent the 
child’s visits. He hoped that they might be productive 
of good to the poor invalid who so determinedly shut 
himself off from the sympathy of those who would fain 
have helped him bear his- affliction. 

And so, as the days went by, there sprang up between 
the master of The Turrets and the rector’s little grand- 
child a real friendship ; and to Eva at least. Squire Ran- 
som was never anything but, as she expressed it, “ ever 
so kind and good.” 



CHAPTER IV. 


ONLY A KITTEN. 

“ He prayeth best, who loveth best 
All things or great or small, 

For the dear God who loveth us. 

He made and loveth all.” 

I T was that season of the year when the golden corn 
falls beneath the shining sickles of the reapers, and the 
bright red poppies flourish in the lanes, and the air is 
sweet-scented with the aftermath. The month of sweet 
September — the time of fulfilment of promise — harvest- 
tide. 

Summer was spreading her sunny wings for flight, and 
signs of Autumn in his earliest and most cheerful garb 
were traceable in the ruddy tints of the chestnut trees, 
and in the big shining blackberries and delicate green 
hazel nuts that clustered in the hedges. Up in the pine- 
copses that clothed the undulating slopes of the South 
Downs the robins were singing sweetly, and the quick 
brown squirrels were darting from tree to tree, while 
beneath, on the smooth expanses of turf, colonies of rab- 
bits disported themselves in merry, fearless fashion. In 

(41) 


42 THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 

these secluded woods animal life appeared to reign su- 
preme. It was the free domain of birds and squirrels 
and rabbits, and it was but seldom that a human footstep 
fell upon the startled air and sent these dumb creatures 
hurrying to their retreats. 

Such a footstep sounded now — a light, firm footstep — 
and there came down a shadowed glade between the trees 
the tall, slight figure of a young lady, dressed in a simple 
serge dress and a straw hat. She was not alone, for close 
behind her trotted a dog. He was a very funny-looking 
dog — a black poodle with an elaborately cut coat, a 
smart collar, and on his legs bright steel bangles that 
clashed and jingled like so many castanets when he 
moved. His face was extremely ugly, but at the same 
time extremely intelligent, and a whole world of sympa- 
thy looked out of his queer, restless little black eyes 
when he turned them on the pretty face of his mistress. 

The lady stood still and shading her eyes with her 
hand, looked around her. Overhead the sky was intensely 
blue, and warm golden sunshine fell through the dark 
branches of the pine trees and touched with bright points 
of light the ruddy leaves of the blackberry bushes. On 
the slender branch of a small larch tree a little robin, ap- 
parently bolder than his companions, sang his cheerful 
song ; but there was no further sign of life, and all around 
was intensely quiet. 

Pom-pon,” said the lady, addressing her dog, “ it is 
an ignominious fact, but we have succeeded in losing 
ourselves.” 

Pom-pon shook himself till his bangles jingled noisily, 
and thrust his pointed nose into her hand with a short 
whine of sympathy. The next moment he sprang for- 
ward with an aggressive snarl to meet a big white bull- 
dog of venerable appearance, which trotted out from a 


ONL y A KITTEN-. 


43 


side path. Now Pom-pon was a pugilistic dog, but he was 
at the same time an arrant coward. He was ever ready 
to challenge fight, but the moment the challenge was 
accepted he would hurriedly retire to the shelter of his 
mistress’s protection ; so when the new-comer, in response 
to his impertinent snarl, gave a low growl, he rushed 
away with his tail between his legs, only to bound against 
the lithe, lanky form of a collie puppy which had ad- 
vanced in the opposite direction. The collie was young 
and playful, albeit very harmless, and his rough gambols 
so startled Pom-pon that he ran off yelping down the 
avenue, making as much noise as though the two dogs 
had half killed him. The collie was for giving chase, 
and poor Pom-pon might have got a still worse fright, 
had not a clear, decided little voice calling “ Bruce, 
Bruce ! ” altered the puppy’s intentions. 

“ Bruce, come here, sir,” cried the authoritative child- 
ish treble, and from a side path that was half hidden by 
high waving bracken rode a little lady on a little pony, 
closely followed by two unwieldy fox-hound puppies, 
which, leashed together, tumbled over each other and 
gambolled about in a fashion more lively than graceful. 

Bruce, come here, sir,” commanded the little lady. 
“ To heel at once ! ” And in meekest fashion the collie 
obeyed the youthful voice. 

Pom-pon, feeling that here was protection, slunk back 
to his mistress, and cowered behind her in very crest- 
fallen fashion, much to the disdain of the white bulldog, 
which surveyed him with dignified contempt. 

The little rider turned to Pom-pon’s mistress. “ I 
hope your dog is not hurt,” she said very politely. 
“ Bruce is rough, but he does not mean any harm. He 
is only a puppy, you see,” she added in a tone of 
apology. 


44 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


“ Pom-pon is a terrible coward,” Pom-pon’s mistress 
replied, smiling, as she gazed in wonder at the almost 
faultless beauty of the little rider’s face, and marvelled at 
the pretty, courteous manner of this child, who, diminu- 
tive and fairylike as some woodland sprite, could not 
number more than seven or eight summers. 

“ And you don’t think he is hurt ? ” the little girl 
asked anxiously. 

“ Not a bit,” replied the lady reassuringly. “ And I am 
so glad to meet you, for, do you know, I have lost my 
way in these woods. Can you tell me the shortest road 
to the village of Lavender ? ” 

“ I live at Lavender^” said the child with a bright 
smile, as she reined in her impatient little steed and 
caressingly patted his smooth neck. “And there is a 
short cut down to the village from here. You must 
turn to the left a little farther down this path, and then 
you will soon see the way. I would go with you and 
show you, but I am on the way to see a friend of mine, 
and I am rather late now. ” 

“ Oh, I shall be able to find my way easily now, I am 
sure,” said the lady. “And I won’t keep you — your 
pony at all events is in haste to be gone,” she added, 
smiling. 

“ Ah, Tommy is a sadly impatient pony,” remarked 
Tommy’s rider in a funny, grave way that was at once 
old-fashioned and pretty. “He’s very restive.” 

At this instant there appeared at the farther end of 
the long grass path a little procession, consisting of a 
bath-chair drawn by a donkey, which was pioneered by 
a respectable-looking, middle-aged man ; in the chair a 
very large green umbrella held by an invisible hand, and 
trotting by the side of the donkey a white bulldog that 
appeared the exact counterpart of the first. 


ONL Y A KITTEN. 


45 


At this sight the four dogs gave vent to excited and 
joyful barks and rushed off at full speed to meet the 
cavalcade, and the little Shetland pony, shaking his 
thick mane and champing his bit, testihed his anxiety to 
follow them. 

“ Whoa, whoa, Tommy,” murmured his little mistress, 
while Pom-pon, who, his curiosity having got the better 
of his cowardice, had been sniffing round the pony’s 
heels, thought it expedient to beat a swift retreat. 

Don’t let me keep you,” said Pom-pon’s owner. “ I 
am sure I shall get on all right now.” 

“ Well, I don’t think you can make a mistake,” said the 
little rider. “ Be sure to turn to the left, that is all.” And 
with this parting injunction she let the impatient Tommy 
have his head, and galloped away across the smooth 
green turf, a bright little figure in the pleasant sunlight. 

Pom-pon’s mistress stood for an instant looking after 
her and then turned into the shady path on the left. As 
she did so she uttered a little sigh, for it so happened 
that her path in life had of late years led through shad- 
owed ways ; and yet the time when, a child no older than 
the little girl who had just left, her path too lay in the 
sunshine did not seem so far distant. This thought made 
her look very grave and preoccupied, and walking on 
thoughtfully she was almost startled when she found 
herself emerging from the woods, with the village of 
Lavender lying just below her in the luxuriant valley. 
She had thought that the walk would have been longer, 
and in no haste to terminate it she sat down on the 
grass beneath a shady fir tree, and opened the little canvas 
sketch-book which was her constant companion in her 
country rambles. 

She was no mean artist, and the groups of peasant 
children, the bits of landscape, and the flowers and leaves 


46 


THE LITTLE LAD Y OF LA VEADER. 


that filled the pages of the sketch-book, although they 
were only roughly drawn in pencil, showed the touch of 
a skilful hand. 

Half an hour had elapsed when, closing her book and 
calling to Pom-pon, who was investigating a neighboring 
rabbit hole, she made her way down the hill-side and 
entered the long and straggling lane which claimed the 
proud title of High Street, Lavender. 

To the right lay the school, a low, half-timbered build- 
ing of modern construction, from the open doors of 
which groups of emancipated children were thronging 
with much noise and other demonstrations of satisfaction. 
The lady passed by quickly. She detested children from 
a general point of view, and they possessed no possible 
interest for her. “ Little horrors with shrill voices, start- 
ling habits, and invariably muddy boots — what civilized 
being could be expected to feel an affection for them?” 
she was wont to say when speaking on the subject. The 
innocence and sweet confidence of childhood were things 
unknown to her. She read of them, but saw no trace of 
any such attributes in the fashionable midgets, tiny coun- 
terparts of their parents, whose precocious accomplish- 
ments were, all unconscious of the effect they produced, 
displayed for her admiration. 

Only a few yards farther down the lane was a pond, a 
common duck pond of unsavory appearance and still 
more unsavory perfume. On the brink of this piece of 
water now stood a little group of boys, rough village 
lads, whose cheerful voices and grinning countenances 
proclaimed that they were about to engage in that pleas- 
ing and humane (?) amusement, dear to the heart of Brit- 
ish youth of a certain class, the drowning of a harmless 
and miserable kitten. 

Mrs. Smith, for such was the name of Pom-pon’s mis- 


ONLY A KITTEN 


47 


tress — a distinctly plebeian name when taken in conjunc- 
tion with such a patrician face and figure as she pos- 
sessed — cast a contemptuous glance at the boys and 
passed on. To interfere on behalf of the unfortunate 
victim was an idea that did not present itself to her mind. 
Mrs. Smith was not in the habit of inconveniencing her- 
self, and it would be more than inconvenient to enter into 
a long argument with rustic stupidity on such a warm 
morning ; besides, what could she do with a wretched 
kitten if she succeeded in rescuing it from the cruel grasp 
of the hobbledehoys ? No, to interfere was quite out of 
the question, so she strolled on and tried to banish the 
unpleasant subject from her mind, which was a happy 
little way she had cultivated. 

If you please, will you wait a minute ? ” A shrill 
childish voice of astonishing clearness uttered this 
request, and, stopping short, Mrs. Smith looked round in 
surprise. Close behind her was the little rider whom she 
had met an hour since in the wood, and forming a van- 
guard round the tiny Shetland pony were the four dogs, 
which at sight of Pom-pon bristled their tails and 
growled defiance. 

“ I am so sorry to trouble you,” said the little lady 
gracefully, while Mrs. Smith listened in wondering amuse- 
ment ; “ but would you hold my horse, while I go and 
speak to those boys?” indicating with her whip the 
group by the pond. “ I’m afraid — I am sadly afraid they 
are going to be very unkind to a poor little kitten, and I 
must stop them.” 

She jumped lightly from the pony as she spoke, and 
held out the bridle to Mrs. Smith. 

Mrs. Smith glanced from the fragile childish figure 
before her to the rough group by the pond. 

‘‘ My dear/’ she said kindly, really I think you had 


48 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER, 


better not interfere. The boys may be rude; besides, 
I don’t think you can do any good. Be persuaded by 
me, and don’t go to them.” 

The blue eyes that were fixed on her face dilated with 
surprise. ” Oh, I am not afraid. They will mind me 
directly — they always do. Will you hold Tommy, 
please ? — he’ll stand very quietly. Do you mind ? ” 

Mrs. Smith smiled as she looked at the tiny steed, 
which was not much larger than a big Newfoundland 
dog. “ No, I don’t mind. I think I can manage to hold 
him,” she said. “ But pray be careful. It is not worth 
running a risk for ; there are thousands of kittens in the 
world, you know.” 

The little girl did not hear her. She was hurrying 
across the lane towards the pond. Mrs. Smith passed 
Tommy’s bridle over her arm and followed her. There 
was a great deal of interest in her eyes as they rested on 
the little light figure in the riding habit. What an ex- 
traordinary child she must be to take such a lively in- 
terest in a miserable cat ; what a plucky little personage 
to interfere with those rustic savages ! 

The little girl had reached the group by the pond, and 
the lads turned round in guilty haste. Their laughter 
and rough jests instantly ceased, and their rustic counte- 
nances grew red with shame under the sorrowful and 
searching gaze of the little lady’s innocent eyes. The 
victim kitten was hurriedly smuggled into the back- 
ground, and the oldest of the group, a tall lad of thirteen 
or fourteen, pulled off his cap, and trying to assume an 
easy and natural manner said— 

” Mornin’, Miss ’Vangeline. Did you please to want 
anything, miss?” 

“ Oh Joe,.don’t try to deceive me. Where is that poor 
little kitten ? ” 





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To face page 


ONL y A KITTEN. 


49 


Joe’s bucolic countenance took a deeper shade of crim- 
son at this home question. 

“ What kitten, please, miss ? ” he stammered feebly. 

“ The kitten you were going to drown. Oh Joe, I am 
so sorry — not only about the kitten, you know, but about 
you boys. I hoped you had learned to be kind to ani- 
mals, and you know how unhappy it makes me when you 
are not.” 

There were tears shining in the bright, childish eyes 
that met Joe’s shamefaced gaze. The lad hung his head 
and was silent. 

“ Lawks, Miss ’Vangeline,” cried a second and more 
intrepid boy, pushing his way to the front and taking the 
place of spokesman. “ We was only a-goin’ to teach this 
yere cat for to swim.” 

At this explanation a subdued giggle sounded through 
the group, and was promptly crushed by Joe. 

“ Shut up, yer duffers, will yer? I’ll teach yer to larf 
when Miss ’Vangeline’s speakin’,” he said, with more 
energy than elegance. 

Mrs. Smith looked on in silent astonishment What 
was the wonderful power that this tiny girl exercised over 
those rough lads ? What subtle influence caused them 
to stand shamefaced and silent in that childish presence ? 

“Joe,” said Miss ’Vangeline, as the boys called her, 
“ where is the kitten ? ” She spoke with a sad dignity. 

“ Where’s the cat ? ” said the lad, turning almost 
savagely on his companions. “ ’Ave any one hurt it ? 
they better not.” 

“ No, no, Joe, ’ere it be. We ain’t touched it.” And 
a helpless fluffy ball of black fur was handed to Joe, who 
silently put it into the little lady’s gentle hands. 

“ Oh, poor little thing, poor little thing ! ” she cried piti- 
fully as she held it to her. Then she turned to the boys. 

4 


50 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


“And you could hurt this little helpless kitten, Joe, 
and you, Dick and Harry! You big strong boys could 
be so cruel to a poor, defenceless animal 1 Oh, I am 
sorry the boys in my grandfather’s parish are such 
cowards. I’m always proud of our village boys, and I 
like to think how strong and how brave they are, and I 
like to tell people about them, but now I can’t any more. 
And there’s a lady, boys, who is a stranger here, what 
will she think of you ? — do you think she will go away 
and say that the boys of Lavender are boys that people 
should be proud of? — do you think you’re a credit to my 
grandfather and me ? Oh, I am so sorry — so very sorry I ” 

The boys looked crestfallen enough, and to see tears in 
Miss ’Vangeline’s eyes was almost too much for Joe. 

“ Don’t you go for to take on, miss,’’ he blubbered. 
“ We’ll never go for to do it agin, and if you’ll give me 
puss-cat I’ll take ’im ’ome, and treat him proper. Mother 
will feed it with skim milk, miss, that she will if I axes 
’er.” He held out his hands eagerly. 

Miss ’Vangeline looked very serious. “ Joe,” said she 
gravely, if I give the kitten into your care will you 
promise to be very kind to it — will you ? If you give 
me your promise I shall feel certain it’s all right, for you 
always keep your promises, you know, Joe.” 

“ I swear — that is, I promise faithful^ Miss ’Vangeline,” 
cried the lad. 

“ We must shake hands on it. It is always right to 
shake hands on a promise,” said the little lady gravely, 
and stretched out a tiny hand in a diminutive riding-glove. 
Joe grasped the little hand warmly in his rough brown paw. 

“ It’s a promise, miss,” he said, looking every bit as 
solemn as she did. 

Then she put the kitten into his hands, and, saying 
gently, “ Remember I trust you, Joe,” turned to the other 


ONL Y A KITTEN. 


51 


boys. “ Dick and Harry and all of you, I’m very 
*spointed in you,” she said, “ and so will my grandfather 
be when I tell him. Don’t you remember, boys, how 
grandfather has often told you that poor, helpless animals 
belong to God, and that he expects us to take care of 
them for him ? ” 

“ ril keep my promise, miss, and may I be choked if I 
don’t, so there ! ” cried Joe with energy. 

“ Boys, will you try to remember to be kind to the 
animals ? ” Miss ’Vangeline asked, looking wistfully at 
their red and shamefaced countenances. 

“ That we will, ’cos you axes us, miss,” cried Dick. 
“ We’ll promise, lads, won’t we ? ” 

There was a loud and unanimous murmur of assent. 
The boys would not be left behind by Joe. 

“Thank you,” said Miss ’Vangeline gravely. “And 
now, good-morning, boys. I’m late for lunch now, and 
grandfather will be wondering where I am ; so good-bye. 
You have made me feel very ’shamed and sad, and I 
don’t think I shall want much lunch to-day. I feel very 
low. I want to be proud of our village boys, and this 
has ’spointed me very much.” 

There was a silence, and Mrs. Smith was as surprised 
by the disconcerted expression of those broad rustic 
countenances as she was by the simple childish dignity 
that was such a new thing to her. 

Miss ’Vangeline turned to her. “ I thank you very 
much for holding my horse,” she said with sweet polite- 
ness. “ I hope he has not been restive ? He is restive 
when kept standing sometimes. I hope you are not 
tired ? ” 

“ I am not at all tired,” said Mrs. Smith. “ Shall I help 
you to mount ? ” 

“ Oh no, thank you — I can manage easily.” And the 


52 


THE LITTLE LAD Y OF LA VENDEE. 


little light figure vaulted into the saddle in an accustomed 
manner. 

“Are you going this way ? “ asked Mrs. Smith. “ If 
so I will walk beside you. I am going to the village inn 
— I have rooms there.” 

“ Yes, I go past the inn. I am so sorry you should 
have such a bad idea of our boys,” said the little girl in 
an anxious tone. “ They are not always naughty, you 
know — only sometimes. And every one is naughty 
sometimes, don’t you think ? ” 

“ Certainly,” Mrs. Smith agreed with becoming grav- 
ity. “And I daresay those boys are usually charming.” 

“ Yes,” said Miss ’Vangeline eagerly, “ they are indeed 
good, nice boys, and my grandfather is very fond of them. 
He has known them all, ever since they were little 
babies, you see. He has taught them all, and many of 
their fathers and mothers also. My grandfather is verj^ 
old. He remembers things that are written about in my 
history book — isn’t that interestin ’ ? Once he was a 
chaplain to some of the English soldiers in the Crimean 
War — that was long ago when he was young. Now he 
is very old. His hair is quite white and he can’t see to 
read without spectacles.” 

“ The antiquity of her relation is evidently a subject 
of great pride to her,” thought Mrs. Smith, much 
amused. “ Your grandfather is the rector of Lavender? ” 
she asked. 

“ Yes ; and he calls me his curate. I’m rather small 
and young for a curate, of course, but, do you know, 
there are a great many things I can manage to do. I 
can read to the old people and to the poor things that 
are sick ; and our cook, who is a very kind woman, 
helps me to make puddings for them. Then on Sun- 
days I teach a class of children — little ones, you know, 


ONL Y A KITTEN. 


53 


in the school, and that is useful. Besides,” added Miss 
’Vangeline, “ I am really growing quite fast now, and 
grandfather hopes I shall soon be very tall and strong. 
Do you know, I grew two inches in half a year. Grand- 
father says that’s a good bit for a girl of my age. Do 
you think it is ? ” 

“ Indeed I do,” answered Mrs. Smith, as she looked 
with deepening interest at the sweet, eager face. ” Do 
you live with your grandfather ? ” she asked. 

“ Yes, IVe lived with grandfather for a long time — 
ever since I was quite a little baby. My father and 
mother went to India when I was a baby. Do you 
know India ? It’s a very hot place — oh, dreffly hot — 
and it’s not a good air for little children. That’s why I 
stay with grandfather.” 

“ But you are happy here with your grandfather ? ” 

“ Oh yes, and sometimes my father comes home to see 
me. One day he will come and stay with grandfather 
and me always. I’m always thinking of that time, and 
of how happy we shall all be together,” she added 
brightly. 

Mrs. Smith and her small new acquaintance continued 
to talk in a friendly and confidential manner until the 
inn was reached, and then they said good-bye and shook 
hands like old acquaintances. 

“ Evangeline,” said Mrs. Smith, “ that is your name, 
isn’t it? will you come and see me some day? I have, 
a great many pretty things that I think you will like to 
see. Will you come ? ” 

“ I will ask grandfather, thank you,” said the 
little maid. “ I should like to come very much. Yes, 
my name is Evangeline, but grandfather and all of them 
at home call me Eva, and it’s only the village people that 
call me by my long name, and they do it to be respec- 


54 


THE LITTLE LAD Y OF LA VENDEE. 


table, grandfather says — no, I mean respectful. What is 
your name, please ? ” 

“ Er — my name ? Oh — well,” said the lady, with a 
curious hesitation which was lost On the little girl, “ well, 
they call me Mrs. Smith.” 

“ Oh, I know a Mrs. Smith,” said Evangeline; “ she lives 
in this village, but I shouldn’t think she is a relation of 
yours, for she isn’t a bit like you. She is our washer- 
woman.” 

” No, she is no relation,” said Mrs. Smith with a faint 
smile. “ Good-bye, my dear, and I hope you will come 
to see me. I shall expect you this afternoon. I have 
tea at five o’clock. Will you come and have some tea 
with me ? ” 

“ I will ask grandfather if I may, thank you, Mrs. 
Smith. Good-bye.” 

And Evangeline, giving her new friend a very bright 
and sunny smile, shook Tommy’s bridle and cantered 
away closely followed by all her dogs. 

Mrs. Smith watched her till a turn in the lane hid her 
from sight, and then, crossing the old-fashioned garden 
of the village inn, entered the house by the open French 
windows of her sitting-room. 

Lavender was quite an out-of-the-world place, and 
strangers seldom appeared in the village. The nearest 
station was five miles distant, and the town six. The 
village possessed but one shop, and consisted of a few 
thatched cottages, the church, school, and rectory. 

There were but few gentlefolk ” to help the place. 
The manor hall had stood vacant, with great boards 
announcing “ This desirable freehold property to let ” ap- 
pearing above the park palings, ever since “ old Squire ” 
had died ten years before, and there were no other large 
houses, excepting the Rectory and The Turrets. 


ONL Y A KITTEN. 


55 


Strangers being so rare at Lavender, Mrs. Smith was 
an object of interest — an interest which was heightened 
by the fact that very little was known concerning her. 

Mrs. Smith, of London,” who had come down to the 
country for a perfect rest after the fatigues of the season, 
was all the information that the landlord of The Blue Lion 
would vouchsafe concerning his lodger. He probably 
knew no more himself, although he insinuated that he 
did by many a knowing shake of the head and myste- 
rious wink. 

The country folk looked with wide-mouthed, open- 
eyed curiosity at the beautiful face and smart clothes of 
the grand lady, and at the still more imposing appear- 
ance of the lady’s maid. The proprietor of The Blue 
Lion rose at least an ell in the public estimation when 
these great ones of the earth took up their residence 
under his thatched roof. 

The village hostefry was a funny, old-fashioned place 
— very picturesque and artistic, but exceedingly damp 
and dark. The rooms had low ceilings and were poorly 
furnished, ill ventilated and very inconveniently ar- 
ranged. But there were two or three rooms that the 
visitor found habitable ; and when her various properties 
were scattered about them, and a piano hired from the 
neighboring town had been placed in the least draughty 
corner, Mrs. Smith was quite satisfied with the effect of 
her arrangements, and the old landlady scarcely recog- 
nized her own apartments. 

Mrs. Smith delighted in the rural quiet and wild 
woodland beauty of Lavender. She wanted a place 
where she could do as she pleased and be troubled by 
no one, and here she found the ideal spot of her dreams. 
She lived out of doors in the woods and fields, rambling 
about with her sketch-book under her arm, and accom- 


56 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER, 


panied by her constant companion, the black poodle. 
When twilight deepened into night, and no earlier, she 
would come in and sit at her piano, playing and singing 
in a manner that astonished the gaping rustics as they 
sat round the fire in the inn kitchen with their pipes and 
glasses suspended in mid-air and their eyes and ears 
wide open with admiring awe. 

“ Lawks, she do sing beautiful ! ” exclaimed old Willie 
Croome, the sexton, who was, by virtue of his office, 
considered an authority in the village. 

“ It’s for a’ the world like the thrushes in the spring- 
time,” said, wonderingly, Daniel Green, a ploughman. 

“ It’s like they sings at the /jopera,” said, in an experi- 
enced manner, the landlord of The Blue Lion, who, hav- 
ing once been to London for the day, set up for quite “ a 
man about town.” 

The admiration was general, and only varied in ex- 
pression. And these uneducated people were right. 
Mrs. Smith possessed a wonderfully beautiful yoice — a 
voice that was a fortune in itself 

To the simple village folk it was a matter of much 
surprise and dissatisfaction that Mrs. Smith did not go 
to church. On Sunday morning everybody was ex- 
pected to go to church — that is, at Lavender ; and those 
must be very black sheep indeed who stayed away. 
The village commune decided that there must be some- 
thing radically wrong with a lady who on Sunday 
played - the piano and strolled in the fields with her 
sketch-book in precisely the same way in which she 
played the piano and strolled in the fields on a week- 
day. There must certainly be something radically 
wrong, they said, for did not all respectable folk go to 
church on Sunday ? This was their simple argument. 

But their comments on her conduct did not reach Mrs. 


ONL Y A KITTEN. 


57 


Smith, and if they had they would have troubled her but 
little. 

Mrs. Smith had been a week at Lavender, and her 
graceful, well-dressed figure, with her sketch-book under 
her arm and her red parasol over her shoulder, was be- 
coming familiar to the villagers. But, lovely lady 
though she was, she did not win the hearts of these 
simple country people ; for her beautiful face wore a 
haughty and supercilious expression that repelled sym- 
pathy and interest. The little children playing in the 
grass by the roadside turned away shyly when she 
passed, and no one offered the blithe “ good-morning ” 
they usually addressed to “ the gentry.” Mrs. Smith 
had no sympathy with children, and they were quick to 
understand this. 

Yet as Mrs. Smith sat down to her solitary luncheon 
she was thinking, and with deep interest, of a child — 
of little Evangeline. 

There is a soft place in every heart, however hard it 
may be, and Evangeline had touched the soft place in 
the heart of Mrs. Smith. 

“ She is so different,” she said almost apologetically to 
herself, “ so entirely different from the generality of 
children.” 


CHAPTER V. 


EVANGELINE. 

**A truthful page is childhood’s lovely face. 

Whereon Sweet Innocence has record made. 

An outward semblance of the young heart’s grace 
Where Truth, and Love, and Trust are all portrayed.” 

M rs. Smith looked forward to the hour at which 
she expected Eva with a feeling of positive eager- 
ness. She smiled at the interest with which the child had 
inspired her. What was this little country girl to her ? 
and why should she trouble herself about her ? were 
questions which she asked herself without finding any 
satisfactory answer. 

She shortened her afternoon walk that she might be 
back at the inn in good time to receive the little visitor 
she expected and hoped for. And she told her maid to 
order cakes and jam, and such things that children like 
to be served at tea, for the benefit of the young guest. 

“And I will have my new Japanese tea service, 
Evans,” added Mrs. Smith. “ The service with the red 
dragons, you know, and — stay a moment, you must try 
to get some honey. I fancy children like sweet things. 
Ask the landlord where you can procure it, or probably 
he has some in the house.” 

Miss Evans, a very grand lady indeed, retired to exe- 

(58) 


E VANGELINE. 


59 


cute these commands .with unruffled composure, but 
once outside in the retirement of the passage she uttered 
some very surly remarks about “ fine folk and their fads,” 
and ^'she didn’t know what madam would be up to 
next, asking nasty messy children in to break her best 
china and cover her furniture with stickiness. She 
shouldn’t wonder if a monkey was the next pet.” 

It was nearly five o’clock, and Mrs. Smith was sitting 
in a low basket-chair in the window, gazing out rather 
dreamily at the old-fashioned garden with its cut box 
hedges and smooth lawns and rows of stiff hollyhocks 
and asters, when a light tap sounded on the door of the 
room. 

“ Come in,” cried the lady expectantly. 

The door opened, and the rosy-cheeked maiden who 
filled the position of waitress at the inn announced, 
“ Miss Herbert.” 

While Mrs. Smith was wondering who in the world 
Miss Herbert could be, Evangeline entered the room. 

Mrs. Smith sprang to meet her quite eagerly. 

I am so glad you have come, my dear ! ” she ex- 
claimed warmly. 

“ And so am I,” said Evangeline simply. “ I wanted 
to come very much. Oh what a pretty room this is ! I 
didn’t know that there was such a pretty room in 
this inn.” 

The little girl wore a simple white frock and a wide- 
brimmed straw hat, in which dress she appeared younger 
and smaller than she had in her riding-habit. Her sweet 
infantine face and childish figure contrasted quaintly 
enough with her grave, polite manner, and Mrs. Smith 
thought her at once the most old-fashioned and the 
most charming little creature she had ever met. 

I am so glad you have come,” she repeated, and led 


6o 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


her little visitor into the adjoining bedroom to take off 
her hat. 

Eva looked round the bedroom with interest. It was 
a quaint old room, hung with very ancient tapestry em- 
broidered with many curious devices. 

“ A funny old room, isn’t it ? ” said Mrs. Smith. “ That 
tapestry looks very queer at night. Sometimes I fancy 
those horses with their grand trappings are cantering 
along, and that group of peasants dancing a country 
jig. Would you be afraid to sleep in this room alone?” 

Eva took off her hat and shook back her long curls. 

“ Oh no,” she said. “ I’m not frightened of the dark. 
When I get into bed I say a verse that grandfather 
taught me when I was a little girl, and then I feel quite 
comfortable.” 

‘‘ Will you tell me the verse ? ” 

I expect you know it,” said Eva. “ It is — 

I 

** ‘ Lord, keep us safe this night 
Secure from all our fears,' 

May angels guai'd us while we sleep 
Till morning light appears.’ ” 


That is very pretty,” Mrs. Smith said. “And do you 
really think the angels guard you ? ” 

“ Think ? ” asked Eva, with a look of innocent surprise 
at the question. “ Oh, I’m stire. You see I ask God 
to let them, and you know he always answers our 
prayers.” 

Mrs. Smith was silent for a moment, only looking 
intently at the child’s thoughtful little face. Then she 
took Eva’s hand and led her back into the sitting-room, 
saying — 

“ I have a great many pretty things to show you, but 
we will have tea first. Come and sit in this big arm- 


EVANGELINE. 


6i 


chair in state. You know this is a regular tea-party, 
quite a ceremonious occasion.” 

The little visitor clambered into the armchair and 
gravely surveyed Mrs. Smith in the exhaustive way 
children are wont to look at strangers. 

We don’t often have tea-parties at home,” she re- 
marked. ” Sometimes I give a tea-party, but I have 
only the dogs and my dolls for guests. The dogs are 
rather tiresome about sitting still, all except Julia. 
Julia is a very staid dog. She used to be the ogre’s 
dog, you know, but she- and I got to be such friends that 
he gave her to me.” 

“ The ogre ! ” Mrs. Smith repeated in a puzzled 
tone. 

“ Yes ; perhaps you didn’t know there was an ogre at 
Lavender, but there is,” said Eva with some pride. 
” And he is the kindest ogre that ever lived.” 

” Dear me,” said Mrs. Smith laughing, “ I thought 
ogres only existed in fairy stories nowadays.^’ 

“ I think they are rather rare,” Eva said gravely. 
“ But this ogre is a very kind gentleman. Poor thing, 
his back is broken, and he has to lie down always ; isn’t 
it sad for him ? ” 

“ Very sad. And do you go to see him ? ” 

“ Yes, nearly every day. We are great friends. He 
calls me his little sunbeam. I love him very much. 
Next best to grandfather and papa, I think.” 

“And have you no brothers and sisters. No little 
playfellows ? ” 

Eva shook her head. “ But I have the dogs,” she 
said contentedly; “Julia and Bruce and the fox-hound 
puppies. And then I have my canary, and there is 
Mollie’s thrush. Mollie is my maid. She has been my 
maid ever since my old nurse married. Maids are rather 


62 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


worrying, don’t you think? Mollie is, at least. She 
always thinks the grass is damp and that it will give me 
cold to walk on it, and she doesn’t like me to sit up late 
at night. In fact, I think she is fussy. Is your maid 
fussy like that ? ” 

“ She is often more trouble than convenience to me,” 
answered Mrs. Smith. “ But I don’t think she takes 
such care of me as your maid seems to take of you,” she 
added, smiling. 

“ P’r’aps she thinks you’re big enough to take care of 
yourself,” said Eva wisely. 

“ Very likely. And do you do lessons every day ? 
Have you a governess ? ” 

“ Grandfather teaches me,” said the little girl. “ But 
I don’t learn at all nicely. I’m dreffly stupid at lessons. 
I can't remember dates ; they all jumble up in my head 
anyhow. And tables — oh. I’m disgracefid at tables.” 

” No doubt you find it dull studying alone,” said Mrs. 
Smith. “ When I was a little girl I was one of a house- 
ful of brothers and sisters, and we were a merry, noisy 
school-room party.” 

” How many brothers and sisters had you ? ” Eva 
asked, looking intensely interested. “ Will you tell me 
about when you were a little girl, please ? ” 

Before she realized what she was doing Mrs. Smith 
found herself embarked in a series of anecdotes relating 
to the days when she was “ a little girl.” These were 
greatly appreciated by her small visitor, and, stimulated 
by her evident interest, Mrs. Smith became so communi- 
cative as to surprise herself. 

Mrs. Smith was quite sorry when a servant announced 
that “ Miss Herbert was called for.” 

“ Must you go, my dear ? ” she asked ; cannot you 
stay for another half-hour ? ” 


EVANGELINE. 63 

“ I think I must go, thank you,” said Eva ; “ because 
I expect grandfather has come for me.” 

“Is it the rector?” Mrs. Smith asked the servant. 
“ Pray, if so, ask him to come in.” 

A moment later a tall handsome old clergyman, with a 
dignified countenance and snowy hair, was ushered into 
the room. 

“ Good-evening,” he said, bowing to Mrs. Smith. “ I 
have come to fetch my little girl. It is very kind of you 
to have invited her, and I hope she has not troubled you.” 

“ On the contrary, I have been charmed to have her,” 
replied the lady. “ But I am sorry she must go. I had 
hoped she might have stayed later. Do sit down.” 

Mr. Herbert took the easy-chair she pushed forward 
for him, and his little granddaughter climbed upon his 
knee and put her arm round his neck. 

“ Evangeline is a delightful companion,” said Mrs. 
Smith. “ She has entertained me beautifully, and I am 
so much obliged to you for sparing her to me.” 

“ Eva was charmed to come,” the rector replied. “ She 
very seldom goes out. We have but few neighbors here, 
and are the quietest of quiet folk, as no doubt you have 
discovered.” 

“ Lavender is a very pretty spot,” said Mrs. Smith. 
“ I delight in its quiet. And if you will allow your little 
granddaughter to come and see me sometimes I shall 
never find it dull.” 

“ And I want Mrs. Smith to come and see us at the 
Rectory, grandfather dear,” cried Eva eagerly. “ Do 
make her come. She says she never goes visiting, but 
she must come and see us, mustn’t she ? ” 

“ Need I say I heartily echo Eva’s invitation, Mrs. 
Smith ? ” said the rector, with courteous hospitality. “ I 
fim much occupied with my books, and too much of an 


64 THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 

old recluse to be an agreeable companion,” he added. 

But this little maid,” and he patted the child’s head 
caressingly, ” will make a ready if not an accomplished 
hostess, I am sure.” 

“You are very kind and good to a stranger,” Mrs. 
Smith answered gratefully. “ I am here for perfect quiet, 
and did not intend to go out anywhere, but whenever 
Eva can spare me an hour it will be a real pleasure to me 
to have her.” 

Eva slipped down from her perch on her grandfather’s 
knee and took Mrs. Smith’s hand confidingly in hers. , 

“ I shall often come,” she said in a very contented 
tone. 

Mrs. Smith bent her graceful head and kissed the 
child’s soft cheek silently. And as she did so the proud, 
supercilious expression that repelled the village children 
and caused them to retreat to the safe vantage-ground 
behind their mother’s skirts when she passed by, entirely 
disappeared from her beautiful face. 

A few moments later Mr. Herbert and his little grand- 
daughter took their departure. Mrs. Smith stood at the 
window and watched them cross the old-fashioned gar- 
den and pass out at the little wicket gate. 

She thought that they would make a pretty picture of 
youth and age ; the tall dignified old man in his black 
clerical garb and the lovely little child in white with 
golden curls hanging over her shoulders and framing her 
bright upturned face. 

Long after they had passed out of sight she stood in 
the window, looking dreamily out and thinking. And as 
she thought her face grew very grave and sad. She was 
thinking of what might have been. 


CHAPTER VI. 


A RAINY DAY. 


“When we and the world are young, life seems 
Woven of happy days and dreams.” 


I T was a very wet morning. Rain poured down, fall- 
ing in torrents, in perfect cascades. Hard, driving 
rain, that beat up the gravel paths and soddened the 
smooth lawn of the neat, old-fashioned garden of the 
little village inn at Lavender; rain that beat down the 
pretty summer flowers and played havoc with their 
delicate beauty ; steady, pitiless, unintermittent rain ; The 
sort of rain that looked as though it would in all proba- 
bility continue throughout the day, and most likely 
throughout the night too. 

Mrs. Smith, having finished her late breakfast, stood in 
the bay window of her sitting-room, contemplating the 
wet world outside with something very like dismay. 
Lavender in fine weather was one thing, in wet quite 
another. 

Why on earth did I come to such, a benighted 
place?” exclaimed Mrs. Smith, apparently addressing 
Pom-pon, for he was her only companion. “ With the 
whole of Europe to choose from, what induced me to 
pick out such a spot ? No books, no amusements, no 
5 (65) 


66 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


people, not even pleasing shops. It was really simply 
idiotic of me.” 

The hours between breakfast and lunch time seemed 
endless. And after lunch it was still raining steadily, 
and there was no rift in the dull gray sky to give prom- 
ise of a finer afternoon. Mrs. Smith went out into the 
hall and attacked the landlord of The Blue Lion, who 
was contentedly smoking his pipe on a bench near the 
open door. 

“What do you think of the weather, Mr. Green?” 
she demanded. “ Is this rain going to continue ? ” 

Old Green got up hurriedly and put down his pipe. 
He entertained a deep respect for his grand lodger. 

“ Well, ma’am,” he said cheerfully, “ I don’t think the 
rain will last more’n a day or two, though this time last 
summer we had nigh on a month o’ wet weather. It’s 
main bad for the ’ay,” he added, shaking his head sol- 
emnly. 

“ Last for a month ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Smith, looking 
horrified ; and beating a hasty retreat to her sitting-room 
she rang the bell sharply for her maid. 

“ Bring my hat and cloak,” she said, when that digni- 
fied functionary appeared. “ I am going out.” 

“ But it is raining, madam,” protested the maid, look- 
ing much astonished. 

“ I am going out,” Mrs. Smith repeated imperiously. 
And the maid, who knew her mistress, departed to fetch 
the things without further remonstrance. 

It was a very swampy path that Mrs. Smith, fully 
equipped with waterproof and umbrella, traversed to the 
gate, and the lane beyond was a perfect slough of de- 
spond. But, nothing daunted, she stepped out briskly 
on the road which she knew led to the Rectory. 

“ She will be pleased to see me,” she said to herself^ 


A RAINY DA Y. 


67 


meaning of course Eva. “And anything — even this 
atrocious mud is better than a solitary, weather-bound 
afternoon. If this weather continues I shall return to 
London this week. How amazed Evans looked ! Poor 
thing, I suspect she finds it dull enough.” 

Ten minutes’ walk took her to the Rectory gate, and 
she walked down the long drive bordered with neat box 
hedges to the house, looking around her curiously as 
she did so. 

“ What a dead-alive old place ! ” she exclaimed, with 
a little sigh. “ But it is a pure and healthy air for that 
little rosebud.” 

And yet to Eva there could have seemed no sweeter 
and more charming home than the quiet old-fashioned 
place where she had lived ever since she could remem- 
ber. And most people thought it a picturesque place 
enough. The old gabled house was simply wreathed 
with creepers ; Virginia with its delicate ruddy-tinted 
leaves, soft green and yellow ivy, beautiful seven-sister 
roses, handsome wistaria, purple clematis, and a white 
star-like jasmine vied with each other to beautify and 
adorn it. Bedding-out plants formed a bright border 
beneath the lattice windows of the ground floor. The 
wide lawn facing the house was shaded by tall chestnut 
trees and silver and copper ash. Near the study window 
a tree of Persian lilac was out in full bloom. It was a 
pleasant scene enough on a fine day, but certainly Mrs. 
Smith saw it at a disadvantage. 

“ All earwigs and spiders,” she thought, as she looked 
at the luxuriant creepers. 

A neat, prim-looking maid-servant appeared at the 
door in answer to Mrs. Smith’s energetic pull at the bell. 

“ Master is out, ma’am,” she said, “ and won’t be in till 
late.” 


68 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


“ Is Miss Herbert in ? ” 

“Miss Eva? Yes, ma’am. Did you wish to see 
her? Walk in then, please.” 

Mrs. Smith was shown into a long, low room, with 
ceiling and panelled walls of dark oak. It was furnished 
in cumbersome, old-fashioned style, and curious old 
paintings and miniatures and ancient prints hung on the 
walls. On a table near the door stood a blue china 
bowl filled with roses and mignonette, the sweet perfume 
of which pervaded the room. A bright fire burnt in the 
capacious fireplace and shed a cheerful glow upon the 
scene ; and on a great tiger-skin rug before the fire sat 
Eva surrounded by all her dogs. 

“ A lady. Miss Eva.” 

The little girl sprang to her feet and ran to meet Mrs. 
Smith. 

“ Oh, I am so glad you have come,” she cried, kissing 
the lady. “ Down, dogs, down. Julia dear, you mustn’t 
growl, it isn’t polite. Julia won’t hurt you, Mrs. Smith 
— her bark is worse than her bite. But aren’t you very 
wet? Oh, I see you are. I will run and call Mollie to 
take your cloak. Mollie ! Mollie ! ” and she ran into the 
hall and dragged into the room a rosy-cheeked, pleasant- 
looking girl, with the explanation — “ This is my maid. 
Mollie, please take this lady’s wet things.” 

Mrs. Smith threw off her cloak, and Mollie gazed with 
shy admiration at the perfect figure in the neat tailor- 
made gown. The rustic Mollie had never beheld such a 
gown before. 

“ I have come to spend a long afternoon with you, 
little Eva, if you will have me,” said Mrs. Smith, as she 
took off her hat before the mirror and smoothed back 
her brown, curling hair. 

Eva clapped her hands. 


A RAINY DA K 


69 


“ I’m ’lighted, quite ’lighted. I have so many things 
to show you, Mrs. Smith. My dolls, and the canary, 
and Mollie’s thrush, and old puss, and oh, I do wish it 
wasn’t raining, so that I could' take you to see the little 
pigs, they are such dear little things.” 

“Ah — I daresay,” Mrs. Smith murmured rather 
feebly. 

“ And the ducklings,” said Eva. “ Do you like duck- 
lings ? ” 

“ Very much, with apple sauce and plenty of stuffing,” 
Mrs. Smith replied, smiling. 

“ Oh, I didn’t mean like that ! ” Eva exclaimed, horri- 
fied. “ I mean alive ; swimming about in the water and 
enjoying themselves, you know.” 

“ Ah — yes,” murmured Mrs. Smith rather vaguely. 
Her farmyard experiences were decidedly limited. 

“ Come and look at my books, Mrs. Smith,” said Eva, 
taking her hand. “ I have such a nice lot, and on my 
birthday the ogre gave me a lovely little case of ebony 
to keep them in. Wasn’t it good of him ? ” 

“ Does the ogre live at Lavender ? ” Mrs. Smith 
asked, looking puzzled. 

“Yes; he lives on the downs in a great big house 
called The Turrets. The garden wall is so high that no 
one can see in, and there is a great iron gate that is 
always kept locked.” 

“ Your friend must be a recluse ! ” Mrs. Smith ex- 
claimed. 

“Oh no, he used to be a soldier,” answered Eva 
naively. “And now he can’t be anything, because his 
back is broken. He can only lie still.” 

“ A soldier ! ” Mrs. Smith repeated in an interested 
tone. 

“ Yes, in India. He was called Captain Ransom.” 


70 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


“ Ransom ! ” cried Mrs. Smith in a startled tone. 

*‘Yes,” said Eva, looking surprised and half fright- 
ened. Have you hurt yourself? Did you sit on a 
pin?” 

“ I — oh no, I am all right,” stammered Mrs. Smith, as 
she subsided into her chair with a pale face. ” I — I felt 
rather queer — faint,” she faltered. 

Oh — ah,” said Eva, looking at her with grave con- 
cern. “ Perhaps you get taken like that now and then. 
Dickie’s granny gets those attacks, and she calls them 
the jumps. Do you call yours the jumps ? ” 

“ Something of the sort, I fancy,” murmured Mrs. 
Smith hastily. ” Talking about sitting on pins, did you 
ever hear the rhyme about a young lady who sat on a 
needle ? No ? Well, this is it — 

“ There was a young lady of Chiedel 
Who in church once sat down on a needle, 

But, thank goodness, a thread was attached to its head. 

And ’twas promptly pulled out by the beadle. ” 

Eva laughed merrily. 

‘‘ What a nice, funny poem ! ” she exclaimed. “ I 
must tell it to grandfather — he loves poetry. Once I 
heard a lady recite. Did you ever hear any one re- 
cite ? ” 

“ I frequently have that doubtful pleasure when I am 
in London,” replied Mrs. Smith. 

” Isn’t it nice ? ” said Eva enthusiastically. “ The 
lady I heard recited a piece all about a curfew. She 
didn’t want it to ring that night, and she was, oh, so ’cited 
about it. Her eyes gleamed and she jumped about and 
stamped, and every minute she shouted out ‘ Curfew 
shall 7iot ring to-night.’ And everybody cried, and said 
how beautiful it was. I thought it beautiful too, but I 


A RAINY DA Y. 


71 


didn’t want to cry, I wanted to laugh. I thought that 
lady was so amusin’.” 

Mrs. Smith laughed. She laughed more heartily than 
she had for many a long day. 

“ Oh, you dear, funny little thing ! ” she cried, and 
drew Eva to her and kissed her. Eva returned her 
caress warmly, but seemed puzzled by her amusement. 

“ Do you laugh much ? ” she inquired gravely. 

I don’t know. Why do you ask ? ” .said Mrs. Smith, 
smiling. 

Well, I was thinking of the saying, ^ Laugh and grow 
fat,’ and I don’t think you can laugh much, ’cos you’re 
so thin.” 

Evangeline made a most entertaining little hostess, at 
lea.st Mrs. Smith thought so. Mrs. Smith was deeply 
interested in this fair-haired, sweet-faced little girl, and 
the interest she experienced surprised herself. She, who 
loathed children, to spend a long afternoon in the society 
of a child ! yes, and to find that long afternoon glide by 
like a brief half-hour. It was certainly most unusual, 
most incomprehensible. 

At five o’clock the small hostess and her guest, and 
the dogs, who were extremely well-behaved dogs — in- 
deed quite polished in their manners — partook of after- 
noon tea. 

Julia likes muffins very much,” said Eva confidentially 
to Mrs. Smith, as she piled the bulldog’s plate with that 
delicacy. “ Isn’t she a sweet-looking dog ? ” 

“ Oh, sweet,” Mrs. Smith answered promptly, as she 
cast a glance of Amusement at the hideous visage of the 
great bulldog. 

“ She’s not ’zackly pretty, I suppose,” Eva .said, looking 
affectionately at Julia. “ But then she has such a good 
disposition, and what do looks matter ? Looks aren’t 


72 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


everything, are they?” turning appealingly to Mrs. 
Smith. 

“ Certainly not,” replied that lady with commendable 
gravity. 

After tea Eva, who was rather tired of acting show- 
woman and began to find the duties of hostess somewhat 
onerous, seated herself on the sofa beside Mrs. Smith and 
said, with a short sigh — 

“ Do you often give tea-parties when you’re at home ? ” 

“ Pretty frequently,” answered Mrs. Smith, wondering 
what was coming. 

“ Don’t you think it’s a leetle, just a leetle tiring some- 
times, at least when a person isn’t used to it ? ” 

Mrs. Smith looked down laughingly at the pretty little 
flushed face. “ I think you have quite exhausted yourself 
in your efforts to entertain me,” she said. “ Suppose we 
now turn the tables and I amuse you for a little while.” 

” But would that be polite ? ” Eva asked rather anx- 
iously, “ when I’m hostess. It sounds wrong somehow.” 

” Indeed it is quite the fashion nowadays for the guests 
to entertain their hostess,” Mrs. Smith assured her. “ In 
return for dinner or supper they recite, act, sing, play, do 
all sorts of things in fact. Once I was out in India where 
your father is now. Shall I tell you about it?” 

“ Oh, please do,” cried Eva eagerly. “ I should like 
to hear about the tigers, and the snakes, and the black 
people. Grandfather tells me about them sometimes, 
but he doesn’t know very much, ’cos you see he hasn’t 
been there. However, he knows a good deal. I expect 
he read it in the geography book. Grandfather is very 
clever, he knows heaps and heaps of things. He can 
remember all the dates and tables any minute. Isn’t it 
nice for him ?•” 

“ Very nice. Come and sit on my lap and I will tell 


A RAINY DAY. 


73 


you some wonderful stories about India. You don’t 
think it’s undignified for a hostess to sit on her guest’s 
lap, do you ? ” 

Eva laughed, and climbing upon Mrs. Smith’s knee 
put her arm round the lady’s neck and kissed her. 

“ I like you,” she said simply. “ You are so kind and 
so beautiful. I think you are the beautifullest person I 
ever saw.” 

Mrs. Smith smiled, but blushed too at this ingenuous 
compliment. 

“ It is far better to be good than pretty,” was her some- 
what trite observation. 

‘‘ Like Julia,” remarked Eva, with an affectionate 
glance at her ugly old dog. But you are both. 
Grown-up people are always good ; it’s only little chil- 
dren who don’t know better that are naughty, and then 
their parents teach them and they grow gooder and 
gooder till they’re quite good — eh ? ” 

Mrs. Smith turned away her face to avoid the child’s 
clear searching eyes, as she replied in a low vbice— 

“ Grown people ought to be good, dear.” 

The somewhat evasive nature of this answer did not 
appear to strike Eva, and Mrs. Smith, embarking on 
Indian anecdotes, held her little listener spellbound for 
nearly an hour. 

Presently the old rector came in, and Eva left her new 
friend to go and sit on her grandfather’s knee. 

Mrs. Smith enjoyed a chat with Mr. Herbert. Al- 
though he had spent the greater portion of his life in 
quiet Lavender, this old clergyman was a well-read and 
even learned man. He possessed quite a name in the 
literary world. He wrote ably and well on theological 
matters, and his works were deservedly popular. 

Mrs. Smith was a woman of fashion, one of the deni- 


74 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


zens of that gay world known as modern society, but she 
possessed an intelligent and even thoughtful mind ; she 
had been unusually well educated, and she was able to 
appreciate the old student. 

They found plenty to talk about without approaching 
personal topics, and their conversation was a pleasure to 
Mr. Herbert as well as to Mrs. Smith. Indeed it was 
perhaps a greater pleasure to him than it was to her, for 
in that remote village he very seldom met with any one 
able to enter into an intellectual discussion. 

While they talked Evangeline sat, a silent listener, on 
her grandfather’s knee. She really understood a good 
part of what was said, and Mrs. Smith, looking at the 
child’s thoughtful dreamy eyes, felt that in that small 
body dwelt no mean intellect, and that one day Eva 
would develop into an extraordinarily clever woman. 

Presently the pretty chiming clock on the mantel- 
piece struck seven, and 'the light bells rang out a musical 
carillon. 

“ My little girl’s bed-time,” remarked the rector. 
“ The young birds and the lambs go to rest at sundown, 
you know, Mrs. Smith, and Eva is guided by them. I 
think early hours are best for young folk.” 

“ I am quite ready for bed,” said Eva contentedly. 
“I’ve such a lot to tell Mollie to-night, — all your 
amusin’ stories, Mrs. Smith, and I must tell them to 
Dickie to-morrow. Dickie loves tigers — at least he loves 
to hear about them.” 

“ Who is Dickie, my dear ? ” 

“ Oh, he is a little boy who helps our gardener, and a 
great friend of mine. I’m very fond of Dickie, and so’s 
Julia, and she doesn’t like boys as a rule.” Then Eva 
kissed her grandfather and Mrs. Smith and ran off to her 
rosy-cheeked maid, who was waiting in the doorway. 


A RAINY DA K 


75 


As she departed Mrs. Smith arose and made her adieux 
to the rector. 

“ I have enjoyed our conversation so much, ” she said 
pleasantly; “and also my pleasant afternoon with your 
little granddaughter. She is a sweet little person. I 
never met such a charming child.” 

“ She is all I have,” Mr. Herbert said, speaking a little 
sadly, “ and very dear to me. In days gone by, Mrs. 
Smith, a large and happy family of boys and girls lived 
in this old house, but it has pleased God in his wisdom 
to scatter that cheerful party, and indeed to take several 
of its members to himself. Now Eva and I are all who 
are left in the old place. There is Eva’s father, but he is 
with his regiment, and will not be home for some time 
yet, Tfear. Sometimes I think it may be that I shall not 
see him again on earth, but I hope that I may give Eva 
safely into his care before I leave her.” 

Mrs. Smith looked sympathetically into the gentle face 
of the old man. 

“ Has Eva no mother to care for her ? ” .she asked. 
“ I could fancy a mother being so proud of such a little 
girl.” 

Mr. Herbert shook his head. “ She has no mother,” 
he said. 

When Mrs. Smith emerged from the Rectory porch 
she- found that the rain had ceased and, the clouds having 
dispersed, she could see the sun setting amid a roseate 
radiance that promised fine weather. 

“ Red night — shepherd’s delight,” said Mr. Herbert, 
pointing to the sky, with a smile, as they shook hands. 

“ Is that a fact? ” Mrs. Smith asked. 

“ Yes, I think so ; at least in this part of the country.” 

The sunbeams caught the raindrops on the leaves of 
the Virginia creeper and ivy and made them glisten and 


76 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


flash like so many diamonds and opals. Mrs. Smith 
glanced up at a window in the right wing of the old 
house, which Eva had told her was her nursery. 

The next moment the French window was flung open, 
and Eva in her white dre.ssing-gown ran out upon the 
balcony to speak to her. 

“Go in, darling — go in!” cried Mrs. Smith anxiously. 
“ Take her in,” she said imperatively to the rosy-cheeked 
maid who now appeared in pursuit of her charge. “ The 
balcony is damp, and she may take cold.” 

Mollie picked the child up in her strong red arms, and 
Eva kissed her hand eagerly to Mrs. Smith and called 
out a merry good-night many times as she was carried in. 

Mrs. Smith looked grave and thoughtful as she walked 
back to the village. 

That evening after dinner she did not sit down to the 
piano, as was her custom, but, putting on a light shawl, 
went out into the old-fashioned garden of the inn. 

Her maid, looking out of a window above, watched 
her curiously. 

“ Well, I never 1 ” observed Jane Evans to herself. “ I 
certainly never did see a queerer sort of lady. A pacin’ 
up and down that damp, fusty old garden in the dusk, 
with them nasty birds, the corncrakes, making their dis- 
mal noise in the field below, not to speak of the /^owls 
and bats and sich-like fowl as infests such places as this, 
/can’t think how ever she can stand such a dreary hole, 
and all by herself too, and not a soul to speak to. It 
isn’t natural, that’s what I say — it simply ain’t human 
nature, and I begin to suspect as she has somethin’ on 
her mind. Otherwise she’d never go for to act so.” 

Miss Evans had been indulging in some shilling dread- 
fuls, and her mind was primed with horrors of all descrip- 
tions. She had succeeded in working herself up into a 


A RAINY DA Y. 


77 


state of nervous excitement, and was ready to sniff a 
mystery in each breath of fresh pure country air, and to 
suspect evil of every simple rustic whom she chanced to 
meet. She had not lived long with Mrs. Smith — only a 
few weeks — and her mistress being of an uncommunica- 
tive disposition she had not succeeded in finding out 
much about her at present. She was therefore able to 
give her imagination full play concerning her, and this 
she did unrestrainedly — so unrestrainedly that she retired 
to bed that night in a state of abject terror, wishing from 
the bottom of her heart that she was safe back in London. 

Jane had come to the dire conclusion that there was 
something decidedly uncanny about Mrs. Smith. 



CHAPTER VII. 


MRS. Greenaway’s thatched roof. 

“ To comfort and to bless. 

To find a balm for woe, 

To tend the lone and fatherless 
Is angels’ work below.” 



HE is the beautifullest lady you ever saw, your 


^ highness,” Eva affirmed. And it is needless to ex- 
plain that she spoke of Mrs. Smith. 

Captain Ransom lay in his bath-chair under the larch 
trees that grew just outside the entrance to The Turrets, 
and Eva sat on the grass near him, surrounded by her 


dogs. 


At a short distance was the Captain’s valet, Jackson, 
an old and trusted servant. Jackson was one of Eva’s 
most devoted allies. He felt that he owed her a debt of 
gratitude for entertaining his irritable and somewhat diffi- 
cult master, and he was lost in admiration of her skill in 
so doing. 

“ Oh, she’s the beautifullest lady I ever saw, is she ? ” 
said Captain Ransom drily. And her name’s Smith — 
well, the name’s not too beautiful. Where does she hail 
from ? ” 

“ Hail from ? ” repeated Eva, looking puzzled. She 
thought some of the ogre’s expressions very mysterious. 


(78) 


MRS. GREENAWAY THATCHED ROOF. 


79 


“ Come from,” explained the ogre. Where does she 
live, I mean ? ” 

In London. But she likes the country very much. 
She says she wishes she lived at Lavender. And so do 
I,” concluded Eva earnestly. 

“Are you so fond of her? ” the master of The Turrets 
asked, looking rather narrowly at the childish face 
raised to his. 

“ Oh, Fm awfly fond of her,” answered Eva quickly. 

“ And yet you have only known her a week ? ” 

“ ThaFs all. But I don’t think it makes any differ- 
ence how long one knows people,’^ added Eva thought- 
fully. “ I mean as to being fond of them. I knew I 
should be fond of you the first time I saw you. I could 
tell quite well that I should be. But then that wasn’t 
wonderful, of course, because you are so kind and good. 
I am sure every one must love you.” ~ 

Captain Ransom looked decidedly overcome by this 
ingenuous compliment. 

“ It’s my birthday to-day,” he said, briskly changing 
the subject. 

“ Oh, how I wish you had told me before ! ” exclaimed 
Eva in a disappointed tone. 

“ Eh ? Why ? ” 

“ Because then I could have given you a present,” 
said the little girl. “ I made grandfather such a nice 
present for his last birthday ! It was a bookmarker with 
a text worked on it, and grandfather put it in his Bible. 
Would you like me to make one for your Bible, your 
highness ? What is the size of your Bible ? Grand- 
father’s is very big — very big indeed — and on the first 
page the names of all his children are written, my uncles 
and aunts, and father is there too.” 

“ Frn sure a bookmarker would be — er, most useful,” 


So 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


said the ogre. “ But see here, Eva, here’s something for 
you. I thought as it was my birthday I’d give myself 
the pleasure of making you a little present.” 

He tossed a small brown paper parcel into her lap as 
he spoke. Eva opened the parcel with eager fingers, 
and out rolled a little Russia-leather purse with silver 
mountings. 

“ Oh, how pretty ! ” cried the little girl admiringly. 

“ Look inside,” said the master of The Turrets, his eyes 
fixed curiously on the frank little face that so truthfully 
expressed her every emotion. 

“ Press that spring. Yes, that’s it.” The purse flew 
open, displaying five bright golden sovereigns of the 
realm. Eva had never possessed so much money in 
her life, but she did not appear overpowered by her sud- 
den accession of riches. On the contrary, her face ex- 
pressed nothing but unfeigned delight. 

“ Oh, your highness ! ” she cried. “ How beautiful, 
how delicious ! Oh, you can’t think how glad I am. 
And is the money all my own, to do ’zackly what I like 
with ? ” 

“ Yes, it’s all your own, and you may do precisely as 
you please with it. So you know the value of money, 
do you ? Well, I suppose it’s a good thing you should.” 

He looked at her with a curious expression, a keen, 
half-disappointed look. 

“ Who would have thought that scrap of a child was 
so mercenary,” he murmured. “ Ah I they are all alike, 
all alike.” 

Oh, money is very valuable,” said Eva gravely. 
And I am so glad to have it because of Johnny Wills’s 
blue legs.” 

“ Good gracious ! ” exclaimed Captain Ransom, much 
astonished. ” Who on earth is Johnny Wills, and what 


MRS. GREENAWAY^ S THATCHED ROOF. 8i 

connection is there between your money and his legs ? 
And blue legs, you said. Do you mean he wears blue 
stockings ? ” 

“ No, that’s just it,” said Eva. “ He doesn’t wear any 
stockings at all. You see his mother is so poor she 
can’t afford to buy them for him. She’s a widow, poor 
thing, and as she’s very weak she can’t work much. 
They have dreadfully little money. I’m so glad to have 
this present, because now I can buy Johnny some stock- 
ings and a warm coat, and I daresay I shall have enough 
left to get Mrs. Wills some tea. She’s so fond of tea. 
I can’t think why. I think it’s nasty stuff — so bitter 
tasting — don’t you ? ” 

“ Stockings and tea won’t cost five pounds,” said Cap- 
tain Ransom. “ You will have three, perhaps four left. 
You must get something pretty for yourself with that — 
a brooch or a bracelet or something.” 

“ Shall I have all that left ? ” cried Eva in evident 
surprise. “ Shall I really, your highness ? ” 

He nodded an affirmative. 

How much does a roof cost, please ? ” asked the 
little girl suddenly. 

“A roof? What sort of a roof? ” inquired his high- 
ness in surprise. 

“ The roof of a house,” Eva explained. 

“ That depends on the size of the house, and on 
what kind of a roof you want. Are you thinking of 
putting a new roof on the Rectory house? Is it out of 
repair?” asked the master of The Turrets, with some 
curiosity. 

Oh no ; I was thinking about Mr. and Mrs. Greena- 
way’s house. They live in a cottage with a thatched 
roof, and the thatching has got old and gone into holes, 
so all the rain and snow comes through. Mrs. Greena- 
6 


82 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


way has rheumatics in the winter. Did you ever have 
rheumatics? It’s a very horrid illness, and makes all 
your bones ache. I never had it myself, but I know all 
about it, ’cos Mrs. Greenaway told me. When people 
get rheumatics the cold makes them feel very bad, and 
that is why Mrs. Greenaway finds the holes in her roof 
so trying. Do you think four pounds is enough to buy 
a new roof, your highness?” 

“ Why doesn’t Mrs. Greenaway’s landlord put a new 
roof on for her ? ” growled the ogre in his least amiable 
tone. 

Eva shook her head. He has told Mrs. Greenaway 
he won’t, but I don’t know why. Perhaps he is poor 
too,” she added thoughtfully. “ There are so many poor 
people in the world.” 

“ I daresay you would like to give them all thatched 
roofs,” remarked the ogre with a grim smile. 

Oh yes, I should. But you see I should have to be 
very rich to do that,” said Eva with a little sigh. 

“ I think you had better spend your money in get- 
ting yourself a nice present,” said Captain Ransom. 

“ Wouldn’t you like a pretty bracelet — eh ? ” 

“ Yes ; but I’d rather give Mr. and Mrs. Greenaway a 
roof, if you don’t mind,” answered Eva. “ You see I keep 
thinking about them in the winter, and wondering if they 
are very cold and if the snow is falling through the 
holes, and it makes me unhappy. One can’t be happy 
when one knows other people are cold and miserable 
and have rheumatics in their bones. You know how it 
is yourself,” she added confidentially. 

‘‘Ah — h’m — yes,” the ogre agreed somewhat feebly. 

“Would four pounds buy a roof, do you think?” 
asked Eva anxiously. 

“ I — I’ll think about it and let you know next time 


MRS. GREENAWAY THATCHED ROOF. 83 

you are up here,” replied the master of The Turrets after 
a moment’s hesitation. 

‘‘Shall you put it down on paper?” Eva asked in a 
tone of great interest. 

“ Put it down on paper ? ” 

“ Yes ; grandfather always puts things down on paper 
when he wants to see how much they will cost.” 

“ Oh — ah ; yes, I daresay I shall try to solve the 
problem that way.” 

“ And now I must be going,” said Eva, getting up 
from her seat on the grass. ” I am going to have lunch 
with Mrs. Smith to-day, you know. Julia is going too. 
Julia does so enjoy going out to lunch, and she behaves 
most beautifully.” 

“ I think you said Mrs. Smith would not be here 
much longer ? ” asked Captain Ransom carelessly. 

“ Only to the end of the month. Ah, I shall be so 
sorry when she goes away, and she will be sorry too. 
Do you know, it is so sad for her ; she has no little 
children and no husband — no relations at all. She lives 
all alone. Musn’t it be dreadful to have no relations ? ” 
asked Eva gravely — “ so dreadfully lonely.” 

“ I have a pack of relations,” said the ogre ; “ and 
they are waiting like a troop of hungry wolves till I go 
off the hooks. I intend taking my time about that 
little business, though,” he added with a grim smile. 
“ And when I go, precious little they will find I’ve left 
them.” 

‘‘ What is going off the hooks? ” asked Eva, looking 
with deep interest at the master of The Turrets’ scowl- 
ing countenance. “ Is it something nasty ? Is that why 
you look so — so vexed ? ” 

“ To go off the hooks is to die — a slang term,” ex- 
plained the ogre briefly. 


84 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


“ Oh, you must not do that, your highness dear ! ” 
cried the little girl in consternation. “ Think how I 
should miss you, and how Julia and Nettle would miss 
you, and Jackson too, I’m sure he would be dreadfully 
sorry if you died. You don’t want to die, do you — not 
very much ? ” she asked with great anxiety. “ Perhaps 
it is selfish of me to want you to stay alive.” 

“ Selfish ! ” repeated Captain Ransom in wonderment. 
“ Well,” said Eva, “ of course it would be nice for 
you to die, because you would go straight to heaven, and 
then your poor back would get quite well, and you 
would be always happy and never feel pain any more. 
But I should feel so unhappy without you. I love you 
very much, you see.” ^ 

The ogre looked into the sweet and innocent little 
face that, full of great earnestness, confronted him, and 
a suspicious moisture dimmed his keen eyes as he said, 
in the gruff, abrupt way that had become usual to him — 
“ So I should go straight to heaven — eh ? ” 

“ Oh, of course you would. All good people go to 
heaven when they die,” was Eva’s simple reply. 

“And I am good?” The ogre could not have told 
what prompted that question. 

“ Why, yes, very good,’^ Eva replied promptly. “ See 
how many kind things you do. That’s being good, 
isn’t it?” 

“H’m — I daresay. Are you really off now, little 
Eva? Stay a moment, child. Look here, if you like, 
if it will please you, you shall go down to that cottage, 
wherever it is, that wants a roof, and Jackson shall go 
with you, and then you shall show him all the repairs 
you want made and he will see that they are carried 
out. And as for your money, put that in your pocket. 
I dare.say you will soon find another use for it” 


MRS. GREENAWAY'S THATCHED ROOF. 


85 


But Eva looked grave. “ Dear ogre/’ she said, look- 
ing at him rather wistfully, for she was afraid of seeming 
rude or ungrateful, and that she would not have done 
for worlds, “ Dear ogre, you are so kind, but — but do 
you think it would be my present then ? It seems to 
me it would be yours.” 

The ogre looked keenly at her troubled little face for 
a moment and then nodded his head. 

” Perhaps you are right,” he said. “ But don’t you 
want to buy something pretty for yourself? If you pay 
for the repairs I don’t think you will have much money 
left. Do you quite understand that?” 

“ I quite understand,” replied Eva quickly. May I 
pay for the repairs ? Do you mind ? Are you 'spointed 
not to pay yourself? But after all it is your money, you 
see.” 

She looked up at him anxiously. 

The ogre laughed. “ I think I shall survive the dis- 
appointment,” he said. “ Well, Jackson shall go with 
)"Ou to-morrow.” 

“Thank you, dear ogre, very very much,” said Eva 
earnestly. “ I’m ever so much obliged to you, and so will 
Mrs. Greenaway be. I ’spect her bones won’t have 
rheumatics so often when the roofs mended, don’t you ? 
May I give you a kiss, your highness ? ” 

“ Certainly,” said his highness, with a peculiar smile. 
It was undoubtedly a very long time since any one had 
offered to kiss him. 

Eva stood on tiptoe and implanted a grave salute on 
the invalid’s thin cheek. 

“ Good-bye, your highness dear,” she said sweetly. 
“ I will come and see you again to-morrow in the after- 
noon. We shall be awfHy busy in the morning with the 
hay, you know.” 


86 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


“ Haymaking in September ? ” 

“Yes, the aftermath it’s called. The meadow next 
our garden has been cut, and to-morrow we are all going 
out to turn the hay. It’s such fun ! The best fun of all 
is to get a ride in the wagon, and it’s most amusin’. 
The haymakers are sucli nice people; they often give 
me rides ; isn’t it kind of them ? ” 

“ Very kind. Well, good-bye, since you must go. 
Where is your pony? In the stable, I suppose. Ah, 
Jackson is bringing him. What a pretty little steed it 
is!” 

“ Isn’t he ? ” cried Eva delighted. “ Papa gave him to 
me. He chose him himself, and papa knows a great 
deal about horses.” 

“ You are very fond of your father ? ” 

“ I love him better than any one in the world,” said 
Eva earnestly. “ He is such a good, brave gentleman.” 

“ Good-bye, you old-fashioned little woman,” said the 
master of The Turrets, smiling. 

“ That’s what they all call me — old-fashioned,” cried 
Eva with a puzzled look. “ What does it mean ? Isn’t 
it right to be old-fashioned ? Is it silly ? ” 

“ It means that you are all that is sweet,” answered the 
ogre promptly. “ What a refreshing thing to find in 
modern Babylon — an old-fashioned child 1 ” 

He spoke more to himself than to her, and Eva, 
busied in mounting her pony, scarcely heard him. 

A moment later she was cantering away across the 
sunlit turf, the ogre’s wistful gaze following her until 
both pony and little rider were out of sight. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

mollie’s mistake. 

The captive to release, 

To God the lost to bring. 

To teach the way of life and peace. 

It is a Christ-like thing.” 

I pray you with all earnestness to prove, and know within yourselves, 
that all things lovely and righteous are possible for those who believe in 
their possibility.” — RUSKIN. 

I F Mrs. Greenaway’s new thatched roof and the history 
thereof caused a sensation in the village, it occasioned 
even greater surprise in the household of The Turrets. 
Most of Captain Ransom’s servants had been with him 
for some years. They knew their master well, and mar- 
velled at the change that appeared to be coming over 
him ; at the curious influence ** little Miss Herbert of 
the Rectory ” exercised over his hard and unimpression- 
able mind. 

** It’s for all the world like Beauty and the Beast,” said 
the old cook one day, as by special order she made jam 
tarts for luncheon — the little visitor being expected. 

(87) 


88 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


** I wonder she ain’t afeard of such an old bear ! ” ex* 
claimed the housemaid. 

“ Afeard, did you say ? ” asked Captain Ransom’s valet, 
who was indulging in a leisurely pipe in the snug retire- 
ment of the housekeeper’s room. “ Afeard ! Little Miss 
Herbert ain’t afeard of no one, bless you. As for master, 
I believe he fairly worships that child. ‘ How are you to- 
day, your highness ? ’ she says in her funny, old-fashioned 
little way ; and to hear her calling him ‘ ogre dear,’ it’s 
enough to make a fellow split. But he likes it, he does. 
He’s always got a smile for her, however cross he may 
be, and after swearin’ at me till he’s black in the face and 
as hoarse as a raven, he will turn round and welcome 
her as sweet as honey.” 

Ah, I can quite believe it,” said the cook. 

And she’s a sweet little lady, bless her, so pretty 
spoken and thoughtful. She’s different from most children, 
somehow. And she’s got that belief in master,” con- 
tinued Jackson ; “ thinks he’s so good and charitable and 
all that — oh, it’s too good. The other day when I went 
with her to the Greenaway’s cottage about that thatched 
roof, I thought I should have split listening to her. 
‘ Mrs. Greenaway,’ she says, ' Captain Ransom has 
heard what bad rheumatics you get in your poor bones, 
and he is ever so sorry, and he has given me some money 
so that I can buy you a beautiful new roof, and I’m so 
glad,’ she says, ‘because now I shan’t feel unhappy 
every time it snows or rains, thinking about you.’ Old 
Mrs. Greenaway, she did seem took aback. ‘ It’s very 
kind of the gentleman,’ she says in a breathless sort of 
way. ‘Yes,’ says Miss Eva, ‘but he is a very good, 
kind gentleman, and it makes him very happy to help 
you. He couldn’t bear to think of your rheumatic 
bones,’ she says.” 


MOLLIE'S MISTAKE, 89 

“ There now ! ” exclaimed the cook, throwing up her 
hands. “ What a child ! ” 

“ She’s the saving of master,” was Jackson’s opinion. 

I believe he’d have gone melancholy mad if he had 
stayed here without letting a soul come nigh him much 
longer. That I do.” 

Perhaps “ the master ” himself thought so too. At 
all events he wondered how he had managed to endure 
the dull, lonely days before Eva came to brighten his 
life, and if a day passed without his seeing her he was 
very discontented indeed. But very few days did pass 
without Eva’s visiting The Turrets, for she had grown 
very fond of ” the ogre,” as she always called him ; 
besides which, his helplessness and loneliness keenly 
appealed to her tender little heart. 

But Eva’s constant visits to The Turrets did not pre- 
vent her from being a great deal with Mrs. Smith. As 
the September days went by the rector’s little grand- 
daughter and the stranger lady at the village inn grew 
more and more constant companions. 

What was the bond of union between the lady of 
fashion and the simple little country child was a question 
that puzzled more than one mind. Perhaps to Mr. Her- 
bert the anomaly seemed least strange; and, observing 
them both narrowly, he was satisfied that the friendship, 
although a somewhat singular one, was nothing but ben- 
eficial to his little pet. 

Whatever might be Mrs, Smith’s past, present, and 
future, with little Eva she was all that was sweet and 
gentle and kind. And whoever she might be, the rector 
saw that she was a ladylike and refined woman, whose 
society must be an advantage to the child. 

The Herberts troubled Mrs. Smith with no home 
questions. Eva accepted her with a child’s simple faith, 


90 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


and the old rector was not one who would attempt to 
elicit a confidence which was not offered him. 

Eva had many friends among her grandfather’s parish- 
ioners, and went every day to visit some old and sick 
people, and to take them little luxuries from the Rectory 
kitchen. The poor villagers loved “Miss ’Vangeline,” 
and Mrs. Smith’s eyes brightened when she saw the 
eager faces and heard the grateful, loving words that 
welcomed the little visitor. 

Mrs. Smith frequently accompanied Eva on such 
visits. She had never taken much interest in her poorer 
brethren, and experienced no sympathy with their 
simple joys and sorrows, but she liked to watch her 
child-friend on these occasions, — Eva was so thoughtful, 
and so quaintly, sweetly precocious, and her vast sympathy 
appeared to Mrs. Smith as something simply wonderful. 

That Eva might have money to. relieve the wants of 
some of her poor friends Mrs. Smith frequently put her 
hand in her pocket ; and to see the bright, glad face of 
the child when she was thus enabled to help those in 
whom she took such a deep interest was all the thanks 
she required. 

But, despite her generosity, the village folk did not 
“ take kindly,” as they expressed it, to “ the grand town 
madam,” and they were always glad when “ Miss ’Van- 
geline ” came to visit them without her. But Eva did 
not notice this ; and as for Mrs. Smith she would not 
have cared had she known it. She was perfectly indif- 
ferent as to the effect she produced on the rustics of 
Lavender. On the occasions when she accompanied 
Eva on her visits they bored her very considerably, and 
it was only her interest in observing the child that 
caused her to continue them. 

The fact that Mrs. Smith did not go to church dawned 


MO LITERS MISTAKE. 


91 


upon Eva very slowly, but at last distinctly. For 
several Sundays Mrs. Smith brought forward elaborate 
excuses for absenting herself She had a headache, 
neuralgia, an important letter must be written without 
delay, she was tired, the church was hot, etc. Eva was 
easily deceived. She thought what a pity it was that 
poor Mrs. Smith should be thus prevented ; but it never 
entered her innocent little mind to imagine that her 
friend stayed away purposely. 

One day, however, she was abruptly enlightened. It 
was Sunday afternoon, and the little girl had been sit- 
ting in the shade of the acacia trees on the Rectory 
lawn reading a new story-book which the master of The 
Turrets had given her the day before, when her attend- 
ant, the rosy-cheeked Mollie, came out into the porch 
in search of her. 

“ Mollie,” cried Eva, jumping up, “ fetch my hat, 
please. I am going to see Mrs. Smith. She wasn’t at 
church this morning, and I am afraid she isn’t well.” 

Now Mollie did not love Mrs. Smith ; the fact was 
she was jealous of the stranger lady’s influence with her 
little mistress. She therefore could not resist this oppor- 
tunity for aiming a shaft at her. 

“ Mrs. Smith never is at church. Miss Eva,” she said. 

They do say in the village as she’s no better nor a 
hatheist.” 

What’s a hatheist, Mollie ? ” asked the little girl in 
a startled tone. 

Mollie, finding this a difficult question to answer, 
remained stolidly silent. 

” What’s a hatheist ? ” Eva repeated with anxious 
impatience. “ Tell me, Mollie, quick. Is it something 
wrong? Oh, I am quite sure that dear Mrs. Smith 
isn’t anything wrong.” 


92 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


A brilliant idea struck Mollie. 

“ A hatheist is the same as a ’eathen, I think,” she 
said. “You know the ’eathen, Miss Eva — the same as 
you read to me of out of your history book. Those 
people wot wears skulls and tomahawks, and ate up 
the poor missionary as went out to teach them better. 
Don’t you remember there was a picture with them all 
a-dancin’ round the fire ? ” 

Evangeline looked at her with dilated eyes. 

“ O it can’t be true ! ” she cried with a little gasp of 
horror. “Oh, Mollie, are you sure? Oh, my dear, dear 
Mrs. Smith ! ” And to Mollie’s great consternation she 
burst into tears. 

The girl was quite devoted to Eva, and was much 
overcome by the sight of her distress. She went down 
on her knees on the smooth turf and took the child in 
her arms, saying — 

“ Law, my pretty, don’t take on so, and all for a 
stranger too ! What’s Mrs. Smith to you that you 
should care for her so dearly ? Why, I do believe you 
think far more of her than you do of the girl wot 
has loved you and waited on you since you was a baby. 
Don’t cry. Miss Eva dear — don’t ’e then, my darlin’ ! ” 

Mollie was half crying herself She could not bear 
to vex her little charge, but she was bitterly jealous of 
Mrs. Smith, and had been unable to resist the tempta- 
tion this opportunity afforded of maligning her to Eva. 

Evangeline dried her tears, and gently freed herself 
from Mollie’s detaining arms. 

“ Please get my hat,” she said ; “ I must go and see 
Mrs. Smith d’reckly. This is a very ser’ous thing, Mollie, 
terribly ser’ous.” 

“ She will have it out with her ladyship, that she 
will,” said Mollie to herself with a chuckle of satisfac- 


MOLLIE^S MISTAKE. 


93 


tion, as she watched her little mistress walk briskly 
down the drive. “ Well, and serve Mrs. Smith right, a 
proud, interferin’ thing ! ” 

And she went -back to the house thinking cheerfully 
of the bad quarter of an hour that awaited her enemy. 
It was quite time, she considered, that Miss Eva should 
know her idol was only made of clay after all — and a 
very poor quality of clay too, in Mollie’s opinion. 

Mrs. Smith was sitting by the open French window of 
her sitting room, with a book on her lap, and Pom-pon 
lying at her feet. She was not surprised to see Evange- 
line’s little figure coming quickly across the sunny lawn 
between the tall hollyhocks and foxgloves. Eva was in 
and out half a dozen times in the day, and an ever-wel- 
come visitor. 

Mrs. Smith, according to Eva, was the most beautiful 
lady in the world, and sitting there in the window, with 
the slanting sunbeams falling on her golden head and 
soft white gown, she certainly looked very fair and pretty. 

The little girl stood still for a moment and looked 
earnestly at her friend. To Eva’s simple mind it seemed 
that to be beautiful one must be good. It was a pretty 
fancy, and Mr. Herbert had not tried to dispel an illusion 
which was so harmless. 

Now, looking at Mrs. Smith, a happy light stole into 
her blue eyes, and she said, speaking half aloud — 

“ She is so beautiful, I am sure she must be very very 
good. Mollie has made a mistake.” 

Mrs. Smith looked up with a welcoming smile. 

“Ah, Eva! Come in, pet, I am delighted to see you. 
Why, you have not been near me since yesterday morn- 
ing. But how grave you look ! There is nothing the 
matter, is there ? Your grandfather is not ill, I hope ? ” 

“ No, grandfather is quite well, but I’ve got a most 


94 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


se’rous question to ask you, Mrs. Smith,” said the little 
girl, looking at her with anxious earnestness. 

Mrs. Smith checked a smile. “ What is it, dear? ” she 
asked, taking the child’s hand. 

“ O Mrs. Smith,” and Eva’s eyes filled with tears, 
“ Mollie says you’re a — a — I forget the name, but it means 
the same as heathen — oh, you’re not, are you ? ” 

“ Mollie makes very bold assertions,” said Mrs. Smith 
quietly. “ What reason does she give for this one, Eva ? 
Why does she consider me a heathen ? ” 

“ It is because you don’t go to church on Sunday. O 
Mrs. Smith dear, it makes me so unhappy for people to 
talk about you like that, when I know how good you 
are ! ” cried Eva tearfully. ^ 

Mrs. Smith passed her hand wearily across ner forehead. 
*‘You must learn to pay no attention to gossip, my 
child,” she said with a little impatient sigh. “It^is one 
of the things that one has to endure in this world, and the 
best way is to ignore it.” 

Eva was looking at her very gravely. “ Mrs. Smith,” 
she said rather timidly, “ don’t be vexed, please, but you’re 
not a — a heathen, are you ? ” 

“ Do you think such a thing is possible in a Christian 
country, and in this greatly enlightened nineteenth cen- 
tury ? ” asked the lady, with a dry smile. 

“ Well, I don’t know. You see I had no idea there 
were any ogres left till I met my ogre,” answered the lit- 
tle girl rather wistfully. 

“ I don’t suppose I am more of a heathen than Mollie, 
at all events,” said Mrs. Smith evasively. 

“ Oh, then that is all right,” exclaimed Eva joyfully. 
“ For Mollie is a good Christian girl. I know it, because 
she has often told me so herself.” 

“ Unquestionable authority ! ” said Mrs. Smith, laughing. 


MOLLIE'S MISTAKE. 


95 


Will you come to church with me to-night, Mrs. 
Smith dear ? ” asked Eva eagerly. 

“ To satisfy Mollie ? ” inquired the lady. 

“ To show Mollie she has made a mistake,” said Eva. 
“ Mollie did not mean to be unkind; you must not think 
that. She only made a mistake. Every one makes 
mistakes sometimes, don’t they ? ” 

“ Mollie is old enough to know better than to make 
such a mistake as that,” said Mrs. Smith severely. 

“Will you come to church with me?” persisted Eva, 
not noticing the severity. 

Mrs. Smith hesitated, looking intently at the eager, 
upturned little face. 

“ Yes dear, if you wish it,” she said, after a moment, in 
a very resided tone. 

Evangeline put her arms about her neck and kissed 
her joyfully. 

“ I knew it was all right ! ” she cried. “ I knew it was 
only Mollie’s mistake.” 

And Mrs. Smith was too glad to see her happy again 
to regret the promise she had been induced to make. 

“ We won’t talk about it any more,” she said with a 
little yawn. “ I think we have thoroughly discussed the 
subject up and down, and I am sure we have both had 
enough of it.” 

“ Will you sing to me, please,” said Eva. 

Certainly ; what shall I sing ? ” 

Sing ‘Jerusalem the Golden,’ please. It’s my favorite 
hymn. Isn’t it your favorite ? ” 

“ Ah — yes,” said Mrs. Smith rather vaguely. “ But 
— er — the fact is I haven’t got my hymn book here.” 

“ Can’t you remember it out of your head ?” suggested 
Eva. “ Our organist can remember nearly all the hymn 
tunes out of his head.” 


96 THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 

“ He must have a remarkably musical head,” said 
Mrs. Smith, smiling. “ But I am afraid I can’t remem- 
ber that hymn, Eva. I — I haven’t a good memory. 
Supposing we look at some pictures instead ? I don’t 
think you have ever seen my photograph book ? ” 

Eva was always easily contented. 

“ Very well,” she said ; I should like to see your 
photographs extremely much, Mrs. Smith dear. I’m 
very fond of looking at pictures of people. I think 
they’re so int’restin’.” 

Mrs. Smith took a handsomely-bound volume with 
silver mountings from the table and opened it on her lap, 
and Eva seated herself on a low stool beside her, her arm 
thrown confidingly round the lady’s waist. Pom-pon lay 
at their feet, looking up at his mistress with wistful, mel- 
ancholy eyes. He was sadly jealous of Eva. He felt 
quite as much injured as Mollie did, and he did not pos- 
sess her satisfaction of expressing his feelings. 

What beaptiful friends you have, Mrs. Smith dear ! ” 
exclaimed Eva with deep admiration, as she looked at 
the portraits of pretty ladies in smart toilettes, and tall, 
handsome gentlemen, a great many of them naval and mili- 
tary officers in uniform which adorned Mrs. Smith’s album. 

Mrs. Smith smiled, and readily answered Eva’s inno- 
cent questions about the various individuals represented. 
Eva took a deep interest in them all, and wished to be 
furnished with the precise domestic history of each. 

” It is like a story-book,” she said. Only more int’- 
restin’, ’cos it’s real. Real things are the most int’restin’, 
aren’t they? ” 

At last every portrait had been examined, and the 
separate history of each person carefully narrated. Mrs. 
Smith was about to close the album, when Eva ex- 
claimed — 


MOLLIE^S MISTAKE. 


97 


“ Stay a minute ! here are some more.” And before 
Mrs. Smith could stop her, she held in her hand the cab- 
inet portrait of a little child of perhaps a year old, a tiny, 
fair, pretty girl, with chubby face and laughing eyes. 

“ What a dear little baby ! ” cried Eva. 

“ Put it down, put it down,” said Mrs. Smith in a low, 
hurried voice, and taking the photograph from Eva she 
thrust it between the leaves of the album, which she has- 
tily closed and replaced on the table. 

Mrs. Smith spoke so strangely and looked so white 
and agitated that Eva was quite frightened. Her lip 
quivered and her bright eyes filled with tears. 

“ Did I do something wrong ? I did not mean to,” 
she said timidly. 

“My poor little pet, what a shame to frighten you 
so ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Smith in a tone of great self- 
reproach. “ Forgive me, Eva darling. That is the por- 
trait of my little child — my little girl who died, and — 
and it always upsets me terribly to see it.” 

She took Eva on her lap as she spoke, and kissed her 
caressingly. 

“ I did not mean to frighten you, little one. You 
must forget it,” she whispered reassuringly. 

Eva stroked her agitated face in her gentle old- 
fashioned way. 

“ Dear Mrs. Smith, poor Mrs. Smith,” she said softly. 
“ I did not know you had a little child. And it died. 
Oh, I am so sorry ! But don't cry, for the little baby 
is quite safe and happy in heaven with Jesus, you know 
— happier than it would be in this world. Grandfather 
says that it’s a very happy thing for those that die 
young, and grandfather knows everything.” 

“ I don’t think my child would go to heaven,” cried 
Mrs. Smith wildly. 

7 


98 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE, 


Eva looked at her in v^^onder. Her manner 'was so 
strange and unusual, her face so pale and full of wistful 
pain ! 

“ Oh, yes, she would,” she said earnestly. “ Don’t 
you remember how Jesus said ‘ Suffer the little children 
to come unto me.’ That is written in the Bible, so of 
course it is true. I have a picture at home of the Good 
Shepherd carrying a little lamb, and grandfather says 
that is how our Saviour carries little children. I always 
like to think of that. It make me feel so safe and 
happy, you know.” 

“Who taught you to be so good, Eva?” Mrs. Smith 
asked abruptly. 

Eva looked distressed. 

“Oh, I am not good at all!” she cried. “Some- 
times I’m very bad ; thoughtless and selfish, and, oh, so 
many wrong things. But I try to be good,” she added 
simply. “ I’m always trying ever so hard, only some- 
times it’s rather difficult, you see, for a little girl like 
me.” 

Mrs. Smith stooped and kissed her, and then got up 
and rang the bell for tea. She was her calm, self- 
possessed self again,, and there were no traces of her 
recent agitation in her charming face as she said — 

“ We will have tea now, so that we shall be in good 
time for evening service. You must give me a seat in 
the Rectory pew, little Eva, if you take me to church, 
and you will have to lend me a hymn book.” 

That was how Mrs. Smith went to church. After 
that afternoon she might have been seen every Sunday 
walking up the broad gravel path of the churchyard 
between the humble rustic graves, with her hand in 
Eva’s, and sitting by the side of her little friend in the 
high old-fashioned Rectory pew. Her presence there 


MOLL!E*S MISTAKE. 


99 


was a great satisfaction to good old Mr. Herbert, a 
disappointment to the inimical Mollie, and a silencer 
to the gossiping tongues of the village folk ; and she 
herself learned to look forward to, and to like, the 
simple service in the pretty little old church, and to 
listen with interest to the quiet, homely sermons of the 
white-haired old clergyman who was Eva’s grandfather. 



CHAPTER IX. 


UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREES. 

“ They are idols of hearts and of households ; 
They are angels of God in disguise; 

His sunlight still sleeps in their tresses, 

His glory still gleams in their eyes. 

Oh, those truants from home and from Heaven ! 
They have made me more manly and mild, 

And I know now how Jesus could liken 
The kingdom of God to a child.” 


Dickens, Children. 


HE Ogre,” as Eva still called her friend at The 



Turrets, was accustomed to go in his bath-chair 


for a constitutional each morning. He would be drawn 
along the level glades of the woods for a short distance, 
never leaving their friendly shelter, and carefully eluding 
any possible haunts of men, even taking some trouble to 
avoid such parts as the woodcutters were likely to be 
employed in. 

It pleased “ his highness ” that Eva should accompany 
him in these daily perambulations as often as possible. 
And she would ride by the side of the bath-chair on her 
small charger Tommy, contributing greatly to the inva- 
lid’s enjoyment of his drive by her guileless chatter and 
happy laughter. She was such a sunny, bright-faced 
little person was that Little Lady of Lavender, so sweet- 


(lOO) 


UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREES. 


lOI 


tempered and merry and gay, that no one could fail to be 
infected by her cheery spirit. The village folk used to 
tell the rector that “ Miss ’Vangeline, she were for all the 
world like a gleam of sunshine in a dark room.” 

One morning in the middle of September, when the 
ogre and Eva were thus out together, Jackson leading 
the donkey that drew his master’s bath-chair, and all the 
dogs — Julia, Nettle (Julia’s twin sister), Bruce, and the 
foxhound pups — running round and barking and yap- 
ping in the pure exuberance of their spirits. Captain 
Ransom said suddenly, ” Is your friend Mrs. Smith still 
favoring Lavender with her presence, Eva ? ” 

” Oh yes,” said Eva. ” I hope she will stay always. 
I want her to.” 

It was certainly a curious coincidence that a few 
moments later the funny black form of Pom-pon should 
run across the sunlit stretch of turf before them, rapidly 
retreating at sight of the other dogs, which Eva with dif- 
ficulty prevented from giving chase. The next instant 
Mrs. Smith, a tall, slight figure in a dark blue dress and 
hat, and carrying a picturesque red parasol over her shoul- 
der, stepped out of the shadow of the larch trees at a few 
yards’ distance and came towards them. She was walk- 
ing with her head slightly bent, and was evidently quite 
engrossed in thought. It was only when Eva, patting 
Tommy’s neck, trotted forward to meet her that she 
looked up and saw the little cavalcade approaching. 
She glanced from the little girl’s bright face to the pale, 
intent countenance of the invalid, who was passing in his 
chair quite close to her, and as she did so she loosed 
herself from Eva’s clinging hands in a hurried, nervous 
fashion. 

“I — I am in a hurry,” she said confusedly. “You 
must not detain me now, dear — let me go.” 


102 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


She hastily drew her hand from the child’s and walked 
rapidly on, leaving Eva bewildered and astonished. 

“Who is that?” the master of The Turrets asked in a 
quick, agitated voice. 

“ Only Mrs. Smith,” said Eva. “ She seems in a drefful 
hurry. I don’t understand. I wish she could have 
waited, for I wanted to have introduced her to you, your 
highness.” 

“ H’m, perhaps she’d rather not be introduced,” said 
his highness drily. “ Jackson ! ” 

“Sir?” 

“ You were with me at S ? ” 

“ Yessir.” 

“ Have you any memory for faces ? ” 

“ I have, sir,” answered the servant in a meaning tone. 

“ Make thorough inquiries respecting that lady and let 
me know the result of your investigations. I think I 
can trust you to keep the matter quiet and not to blun- 
der — eh ? ” 

“ Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best.” 

Eva had not heard a word of this conversation. With 
the happy carelessness of childhood she had thrown off 
her wonderment at Mrs. Smith’s strange behavior, and 
she and Tommy were running some merry races with the 
dogs. Captain Ransom watched her with deep interest ; 
she had become very much to this lonely, helpless man 
with no “ chick nor child ” (as the village folk would 
have put it) of his own to brighten his long and dreary 
days. 

“ Eva,” he said, when she wished him good-bye at the 
gates of The Turrets, “ I heard of Davy to-day ; he’s 
getting on well. My friend Colonel Monckton thinks he 
will make a fine soldier. The old lady and Dickie will 
be glad to hear that — eh ? ” 


UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREES. 103 

“ They’ll be awf'ly glad ! ” cried Eva, clasping her 
hands. And it’s all your doing, your highness ! Davy 
would never have been a soldier if it hadn’t been for you.” 

‘‘And Davy would now have been an inmate of a 
prison reformatory if it hadn’t been for you,” said “ his 
highness,” with his grimmest smile. 

Eva shook her head vigorously. “You’d never have 
really sent him to prison,” she said confidently. 

“ Shouldn’t I ? and why not ? ” 

“ Because you are too kind,” said the little girl earn- 
estly. “ Mrs. Greenaway and I were talking about you 
the other day, and we ’cided that you’re one of the kind- 
est gentlemen we ever knew. Mrs. Greenaway’s sure of 
it.” 

“Ah — h’m. You ask Mrs. Smith what she thinks on 
that subject.” 

“ Mrs. Smith ? Well, you see she doesn’t really know 
you, she’s only heard of you, and I think one wants to 
know a person to find out how kind they are, don’t you ?” 

“ Still Mrs. Smith might consider herself qualified to 
express an opinion on the subject. You ask her, little 
one, and see what she says.” 

“Are you vexed with Mrs. Smith because she was in 
a hurry and wouldn’t wait to be introduced to you ? ” 
asked Eva anxiously. “ She didn’t mean to be rude, your 
highness dear. Mrs. Smith’s never rude. She’s ever 
such a polite lady.” 

“ In fact Mrs. Smith is perfection, eh ? ” 

“ I think so,” replied Eva, nodding her head. 

When the little girl had ridden away, the master of 
The Turrets watching her till she was out of sight, he 
turned to Jackson, 

“ You will recollect my instructions.” 

“ I will set to work this afternoon, sir.” 


104 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


“ With great care, and in a strictly private manner, 
mind,” growled the ogre in his least amiable tone. “ Don’t 
make a fool of yourself in the matter. If you do, you’ll 
forfeit your situation, understand. Do you hear me ? ” 

“ Yessir,” replied the imperturbable Jackson calmly. 
On an average his master gave him notice twice a week, 
and he had learned to regard it as quite an everyday 
matter. He knew his value to the invalid gentleman, and 
was not afraid that he would easily make up his mind to 
dispense with his services. 




CHAPTER X. 


papa’s portrait. 

“ Of all sad words of tongue and pen, 

The saddest are these, ‘ It might have been ! ’ ” 

‘^A/riSS EVA.” 
iVl “ Yes, Dickie.” 

The little robin redbreasties as you used to watch in 
the nesty last May is all over the garding now, and sings 
beautiful, missy. ’Ave you seen ’em ? ” 

Eva was snugly ensconced in the big hammock that 
was suspended from a big branch of one of the chestnut 
trees on the Rectory lawn, with a story-book and her pet 
kitten, and Dickie stood below, his befreckled little coun- 
tenance eagerly raised, a hoe rather bigger than himself 
in his small sun-tanned hands. 

“ Are they, Dickie ? No, I’ve not heard them yet. 
How nice ! ” cried the little girl eagerly. “ What dear 
little brown things they were, do you remember ? And 
Dickie, there’s a whole family of little blue-tits come to 
live in this garden. They are such pets, and in the morn- 
ing they come to the dining-room window ledge for 
crumbs.” 

“ Davy he could trap the birds,” said Dickie medita- 
tively, as he bent down to the weeding with which he was 
supposed to be occupied. 

(105) 


io6 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


“ That wasn’t right of Davy,” said Eva very decidedly. 

But I don’t suppose he would do such a thing now he 
is one of the Queen’s soldiers.” 

“ Ah no,” said Dicky in awestruck tones. And I 
dessay he’s wonderful smart wi’ his red coat an’ his big 
sword. Like the picter of the Dook o’ Wellington in 
the primer at school, eh. Miss Eva ? ” 

He must look very nice,” said Eva, in an admiring 
tone. 

“ I should like to be a sodger too. D’ye think the 
Queen would have me. Miss Eva ? ” asked Dickie 
anxiously. 

“ You’re too small. I’m afraid, Dickie,” said Eva shak- 
ing her head. 

The drummer-boy in the poetry book, wot we learnt 
about, was only a little un,” objected Dickie. 

But it’s very nice to be a gardener, and you love the 
flowers, don’t you ? ” said Eva rather wistfully. 

“ I likes the gardening when Philip ain’t cross. Miss 
Eva.” 

“ Oh, he’s only cross when his rheumatics are bad ; 
generally he’s very nice and kind.” 

Dickie sucked his thumb meditatively; he was not so 
sure as to Philip’s amiability. 

At this moment Eva caught sight of Mrs. Smith at 
the gate, and jumping down from the hammock she 
ran to meet her, followed by Julia, the collie, and the two 
foxhound puppies, who scented their enemy Pom-pon afar. 

Pom-pon, seeing the approaching army, retired be- 
hind the shelter of his mistress’s dress. He was cer- 
tainly not remarkable for his courage, and he evidently 
considered that “ He who fights and runs away will live 
to fight another day.” 

Pom-pon is a sad coward ! ” cried Mrs. Smith, 


PAPA^S PORTRAIT. 


107 


laughing, as she stooped to kiss Eva. Look at Julia, 
I am sure she entertains a supreme contempt for him ! ” 
Poor old Pom-pon,” said Eva, patting his funny- 
black head. Are you come to stay, Mrs. Smith dear? 
Please do; grandfather’s gone into the town and won’t 
be back all day, and Pm all alone. Pve prepared my 
lessons, and I’m quite at leisure.” 

“ Well, I think you had better come and lunch with 
me. 

“ Yes, I should like that,” said Eva contentedly. 
“ Come and sit in the hammock for a little while, it’s so 
nice and sunny on the lawn. Now, Julia, you must be 
polite to Pom-pon and not growl at him in that unkind 
way. It’s very wrong to treat a visitor so rudely.” 

Julia looked up at her little mistress and wagged her 
tail apologetically. 

“ Isn’t she a nice understanding dog ? ” Eva asked 
Mrs. Smith, as she seated herself beside her in the 
hammock. iVe a great respect for Julia.” 

Ah — yes,” responded Mrs. Smith somewhat ab- 
sently. There was a dreamy, preoccupied look in her 
eyes, and she scarcely seemed to hear what Eva said. 

Have you got a headache ? ” asked the little girl 
anxiously. 

“ No,” said Mrs. Smith, starting ; “ why do you ask, 
dear ? ” 

“ You looked so ser'ous^' said Eva. “ Were you 
thinking very hard ? I know how it is when Pm think- 
ing very hard at lessons. I look very ser’ous indeed, 
and my forehead is all puckered up, and then grand- 
father says, ‘ Now we won’t do any more work to-day, 
that little head is full enough,’ and we put away the 
books. Were you thinking, Mrs. Smith dear?” 

‘'Yes, Eva; I was thinking that soon my pleasant 


lo8 THE LITTLE LAD Y OF LA VENDER. 

holiday in this quiet little village will be at an end/’ she 
answered, meeting the little girl’s blue eyes with a 
wistful look. 

At an end ! ” repeated Eva in a startled tone. ** I 
don’t understand.” 

“ I mean that I shall have to go back to London next 
week. I have had a long holiday, and all pleasant 
things must end sooner or later,” said Mrs. Smith with a 
little sigh. 

“ O Mrs. Smith, I thought you were going to stay at 
Lavender always ! But grandfather and I won’t let you 
go ; we can’t spare you ! ” 

“ Shall you be a little sorry, dear ?'” Mrs. Smith asked 
wistfully. I should like to think you would miss me.” 

Eva flung her arms impetuously round her. 

“ We will not let you, grandfather and I,” she cried. 

“ I am far more sorry to go than you can be to lose 
me,” said Mrs. Smith in a low voice, and turned away 
her face. “You don’t know — how can you? — what a 
blessed, restful time this has been to me, little Eva.” 
Her voice quivered, and a bright teardrop fell upon her 
white dress. 

“ O Mrs. Smith, darling, you are crying. You don’t 
want to go. You shan’t go. You shall stay with us 
always. Promise me you will.” 

Mrs. Smith bent and kissed the little girl’s sweet, 
eager face. 

“ I am obliged to go, Eva ; but you will write to me, 
dear, and I shall write to you, and we shall not forget 
each other although we are parted.” 

She spoke cheerfully, but Eva saw that the beauti- 
ful dark eyes which met her wistful gaze were full of 
tears. 

“ I shall tell grandfather,” she cried, “ and he won’t let 


PAPA'S POP TP A IT. log 

you go. He*s got an awful strong will/’ she added in a 
tone of great satisfaction. You’ve no idea how strong 
it is, and when he once makes up his mind no one can 
change it. I’m quite certain he won’t hear of your 
going. He knows how miserbul it would make me.” 

Mrs. Smith smiled faintly; and, . confident of “grand- 
father’s ” power to arrange everything satisfactorily, Eva 
cheered up immediately. 

“ Mrs. Smith dear,” she said in her usual bright tone, 
“ I had such a sweet present this morning. Guess what 
it was.” 

“ Who was it from ? ” 

“ It came a long way — a very long way. Right across 
the sea, ever so far,” said Eva impressively. 

“ Dear me ! Then I am sure I shall never guess,” 
said Mrs. Smith rather absently. 

“ I will run and fetch it,” said Eva, springing up. “ I’m 
longing to show it to you.” 

Mrs. Smith watched the light, pretty little figure run 
across the lawn and in at the creeper-covered porch, with 
wistful eyes. When Eva was gone she fell into a day- 
dream that, to judge by the expression of her face, was not 
a very bright or happy one. She was sitting watching 
the flock of white pigeons circling round the picturesque 
eaves of the Rectory house and thinking deeply, when 
Eva came back with a large envelope in her hand. 

“ There’s my present. Look at it,” she said, laying 
the packet on Mrs. Smith’s lap. 

“ What can it be ! ” Mrs. Smith said, with a smile, as 
she opened the envelope. 

“ It’s a photo,” said Eva. “ Papa’s photo, and its just 
like him,” she added in a tone of deep satisfaction. 

Mrs. Smith, with a smile on her lips, drew the cabinet 
card from the envelope, but as her eyes rested on the 


no 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


photograph her entire expression changed, and with a 
startled cry she let it drop from her hand. 

Eva looked at the lady’s white face and wild eyes in 
astonishment and alarm. 

“ What is it ? Don’t you like the photo ? ” she said, 
regarding Mrs. Smith with dilated blue eyes, and stoop- 
ing down she picked up the card. 

“ I — I am not feeling well,” Mrs. Smith said faintly. 
And indeed she looked so pale and ill that Eva was 
frightened. 

I will call Mollie,” she cried, and would have run 
off in search of the girl had not Mrs. Smith called to 
her in faint but very decisive tones not to do so. 

” I shall be better directly,” she said hurriedly. 

Don’t be frightened, dear, it is nothing serious.” 

“ Was it rheumatics ? ” Eva asked nervously. “ Did 
it hurt much ? Rheumatics hurt dreffly, I know ; Mrs. 
Greenaway has told me so, and she has them very 
bad.” 

Mrs. Smith smiled feebly. “ I think it was rather a 
pain in my heart,” she said. “ Let me look at the 
photograph again, my dear. I scarcely saw it.” 

“ Do you feel better now ? ” Eva asked anxiously. 

“ Yes, much better. It was only a passing faintness. 
May I see the photograph again ? ” 

Eva put it into her hands readily. 

“ Hasn’t papa got a dear face ? ” she asked eagerly. 

But this picture isn’t as nice as he is really. He’s 
such a darling, you can’t think ! I’m sure you would 
love him if you knew him,” said Eva earnestly. “ He 
is so good and so brave that everybody loves him.” 

Mrs. Smith, looking at the photograph in a pre- 
occupied manner, scarcely heard the child’s words. 

“ Do you like it? Does it interest you?” Eva asked, 


FAPA^S FOP TP A IT. 


Ill 


after a moment. She could not understand Mrs. Smith’s 
silent scrutiny of the photograph. 

Mrs. Smith looked up quickly, as one awakened from 
a dream. 

% 

“ It is very nice,” she said absently, as she put the 
photograph back into the envelope ; then she took both 
of Eva’s hands in hers and drew the little girl to her side, 
and looked at her with great earnestness. “ You love 
your father very dearly,” she said. “ And what of your 
mother ? I never hear you speak of her.” 

Eva looked up, and her face was grave. “ Mamma 
is dead,” she said. “ Did I not tell you ? She died 
when I was little — quite a baby. I was so little that I 
don’t remember her at all.” 

Mrs. Smith’s face took a paler shade as she asked in 
a low tone, “ And they never speak of her to you ? ” 

Eva shook her head. “ I think it makes grandfather 
unhappy to speak of her — I can’t tell why, for of course 
as she is dead she is in heaven, and every one is quite 
safe and happy there, and so it is not sad, at least for 
her. But of course poor grandfather misses her very 
much, and I suppose that is it ; don’t you think so ? ” 

“ But your grandfather never saw her.” 

Eva looked a little surprised. ‘‘ Did he tell you so, 
Mrs. Smith dear? Did he speak about my mother? 
He never does to me. I wish he would,” she added 
wistfully. “ I should like to hear all about her. I am 
sure she was very good. Sometimes I wonder what she 
was like. I think she must have been a very beautiful 
lady. I like to think that she had a lovely face and 
kind eyes like the picture of Saint Ursula in the colored 
window in church. Don’t you think very likely she 
was like Saint Ursula, Mrs. Smith ? ” • 

” No, I am sure she never was ! ” cried Mrs. Smith 


12 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


bitterly. Then, seeing Eva’s startled look, she gathered 
the child into her arms and kissed her pretty, innocent 
face tenderly, saying, “You must not notice me, pet. 
I am very cross and disagreeable sometimes, and then I 
say silly things. Try to think that your mother was all 
that is good and pure. I shall never undeceive you.” 

These last words were only meant for herself, and Eva 
did not notice them. 

Stroking Mrs. Smith’s face with her gentle hand, she 
said earnestly, “ I love you, dear Mrs. Smith. I wish 
you were my mother and could stay with me always.” 

Mrs. Smith rose from the hammock hurriedly. 

“ It must be getting late,” she said. “ Run and fetch 
your hat, Eva dear. I expect by the time we get to the 
inn, lunch will be ready for us. See, Pom-pon is pricking 
up his ears ! He is a sad gourmand, and quite under- 
stands when food is spoken of.” 

“May Julia come?” asked Eva. “She loves going 
out to lunch.” 

“ Certainly. And Pom-pon shall share his repast with 
her.” 



CHAPTER XL 


THE rector’s visit. 

What shall assuage the unforgotten pain 
And teach the unforgetful to forget?” 

“Look in my face; my name is Might-have-been!” 

HE evenings now closed in too early for Mrs. Smith 



-L to take a stroll in the old-fashioned garden of the 
inn after dinner, as she had been wont to do when she 
first came to Lavender. So when she had partaken of 
her solitary meal that evening she went to the piano. 

She, who loved music passionately, found it quite a 
sympathetic companion. She was never lonely when 
her fingers were on the keyboard. She was playing a 
quaint little melody by a Norwegian composer — playing 
softly and in a preoccupied, dreamy fashion, for her 
thoughts were very far away, when the door opened and 
the rustic domestic of the inn announced — 

“ His reverence the vicar,” in somewhat awestruck 
tones. 

Mrs. Smith rose with a smile to meet him. She 
entertained a great respect and liking for the gentle, 
white-haired old man who was Eva’s grandfather; and 
many a pleasant and interesting conversation had they 
enjoyed together during the last few weeks. Both 


8 


(113) 


II4 


THE LITTLE LAD Y OF LA VENDEE. 


intellectual, thoughtful people, though of a different 
school, they found much in common, and their agreeable 
acquaintance required but the touch of time to ripen into 
a real friendship. 

“ I must apologize for the lateness of my visit, Mrs. 
Smith,” Mr. Herbert said, as they shook hands. “ But 
the fact is Eva could not be persuaded to go happily to 
bed until I had promised to come down and see you this 
evening, or, to put it in her own words, ^ this Tjery night.’ 
She is greatly distressed because, she tells me, you are 
going away next week. I hope that is not so ? ” 

“ Unfortunately it is.” 

It seems that my little girl had quite made up her 
mind that you were going to remain here always, in fact 
take up your residence at Lavender; and the bare idea 
of your departure is a blow to her. Eva has a naturally 
affectionate heart, Mrs. Smith, and you have been very 
good to her.” 

“ I am very sorry to go,” she answered in a low voice. 

I have been so happy here — I cannot tell you how 
happy. But I am a busy woman, and my work awaits 
me. I am afraid I ought to have told you before, Mr. 
Herbert, that I am a professional singer; but I know 
how prejudiced some people are against those who follow 
such a profession, and I could not risk that which might 
deprive me of the pleasure of your little girl’s society. 
Can you forgive me ? ” 

It would have required a harder heart than the kindly 
old clergyman’s to resist Mrs. Smith’s pleading, beauti- 
ful face, and soft, gentle voice. He pressed her hand 
sympathetically, and said — 

“You need not have feared to tell me. I am con- 
vinced that Eva could not have a better companion nor a 
kinder friend. My little girl will miss you sadly, Mrs. 


THE RECTOR'S VISIT. 


”5 


Smith ; indeed we shall both miss you. We must hope, 
however, that your next holiday will bring you to Laven- 
der again. It is but a quiet little place, but we can at 
least promise you a warm welcome.” 

It is the very quietness of the place that charms me,” 
she answered earnestly. “ But,” and she repressed a sigh 
as she spoke, “ I fear I shall not be able to visit Lavender 
again. In this world one cannot always do as one would, 
Mr. Herbert.” 

“ Ah — true ! And it is for the best. This is our school 
of probation ; we are but grown-up scholars, and disci- 
pline is as necessary for us as it is for the children ; though 
sometimes, like them,” he added rather sadly, “ we find 
obedience a hard task.” 

Perhaps I may never see little Eva again,” said Mrs. 
Smith ill a wistful tone. But I shall often think of her 
growing up safely and happily in her beautiful country 
home, and developing under your care into the noble and 
good woman which I am sure she must become. I shall 
never forget her.” 

Mr. Herbert was surprised and touched to see that 
there were tears in her beautiful dark eyes as she spoke. 

“ It is very good of you to take such an interest in my 
little girl,” he said gently. “ Eva has no mother, poor 
child, and it is a sad loss which no loving care can make 
up for. As she grows older I fear she will feel the loss 
even more than she does now.” 

Mrs. Smith picked up a large red Japanese fan which 
lay on the table by her side, and examined the curious 
devices that adorned it. 

Her — her mother is dead ? ” she asked in a low voice. 

“ She is even farther removed from her than though 
she were dead,” Mr. Herbert replied, and as he spoke his 
usually gentle face grew hard and stern. 


n6 THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE, 

“ My poor boy’s whole life has been spoiled — ruined 
by that woman,” he added in a low, constrained tone, 
“ she who should have been his stay and comfort. But 
forgive me, Mrs. Smith, it is unpardonable of me to 
trouble you with my affairs. I seldom speak on this 
subject, but it is one on which I think much and strongly 
— it is a deep and lasting grief to me.” 

“ Perhaps there were faults on both sides,” said Mrs. 
Smith — “ a mutual misunderstanding. Might that not 
be so ? ” She spoke ‘ hurriedly, with quick-coming 
breath, and eager, parted lips, and as she leaned forward 
and the firelight fell full upon her beautiful face Mr. Her- 
bert saw that it was full of great earnestness. 

“ That was spoken in the spirit of pure, womanly 
charity — the charity that thinketh no evil,” he exclaimed. 
“ But, my dear lady, I am sorry to tell you that there 
was no misunderstanding — no mistake. What induced 
that unhappy woman to marry my son I do not know, 
but I am too well aware that she never either appreciated 
or loved him as she should.” 

Ah no ! she did love him ! ” passionately exclaimed 
Mrs. Smith. Then, as Mr. Herbert glanced at her 
agitated face in surprise, she shrank back and said 
hurriedly and confusedly, “ That is — I mean she 7mist 
have loved him if he is all you say — good, noble, 
brave.” 

Mr. Herbert did not recollect having mentioned to 
Mrs. Smith that his son possessed these good qualities, 
but his was an unsuspicionas mind, and he only said very 
gently — 

“ So it might seem ; but alas, in this world there are 
many cold hearts, and not every woman can appreciate 
devotion and chivalry.” 

“ Until she loses them,” murmured Mrs. Smith. 


THE RECTORS S VISIT. 117 

“ I beg your pardon ? ” 

I — I said that is true. But little Eva has an efficient 
guide in you ; she will never miss her mother.” And 
Mrs. Smith sighed a little bitterly. 

“ I am grateful to you for the kind interest you take 
in my little maid,” the old rector said warmly. “ And 
Eva will not forget you. In some ways she is different 
from other children, and she is a child of very deep 
affections, unusually deep for one of her tender years, I 
think.” 

Mrs. Smith hesitated a moment, and then said in a 
- low, tremulous voice — 

“ Do not thank me. It is very natural that I should 
take an interest in your little Eva ; for once I had a little 
girl of my own and Eva makes me think of what she 
might have been.” . 

“ But it pleased our merciful Father to take her to him- 
self?” said Mr. Herbert, as he looked pitifully at the 
pale, lovely face opposite to him. “ You must try not to 
grieve, Mrs. Smith. Your little one will grow up to far 
greater perfection in the Courts of the City Bright than 
she could ever have attained to here below. And your 
separation is but for a brief period : in his good time you 
will be reunited, never to part again.” 

No,” said Mrs. Smith in a strange, hard voice. '‘She 
will never be mine again in heaven or on earth — she is 
lost to me for ever!” And then her composure gave 
way and she bowed her face upon her hands and wept 
bitter, silent tears — such tears as can only spring from a 
hopeless heart. 

Mr. Herbert laid his hand on her slender shoulder in 
a pitying, fatherly fashion. 

“ My dear,” he said, “ you must not say — you must 
not think that.” 


Ii8 THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 

She lifted her face then, and said impetuously, looking 
at him with eyes that were dim with unshed tears: 

“ I’m afraid you think well of me, Mr. Herbert — but 
you must not do so. If you knew all about me, I 
think, I fear, you would never let Eva come near me 
again.” 

“ As you say, I know nothing of you,” the clergyman 
answered quietly — “ that is, of your history past or 
present ; but of one thing I am convinced, which is that 
I shall never regret your friendship with Eva. I am 
sure that all she has learned from you is good and pure 
and desirable, and I venture to hope that her childish 
innocence and faith may have been of some little help 
and comfort to you.” 

*‘Ah, indeed that is so!” she exclaimed earnestly. 
“ I can’t tell you all that Eva has been to me, Mr. Her- 
bert.” 

“ You will let me know if, at any tim6, I can be of the 
least service to you, Mrs. Smith ? ” 

“ You are very good,” she answered gratefully. “But 
I want for nothing, thank you. I have plenty of money 
— my voice brings me that, and I have many acquaint- 
ances if few real friends, and much to occupy me. I am 
a busy woman, Mr. Herbert, and I am thankful that I 
am busy. One has but little' time for reflection when 
one is busy, and I do not want to reflect,” she added 
with a sad smile. 

The old clergyman tried to speak a few words of 
comfort and advice, but knowing so very little of the 
case he found this difficult. He shortly afterwards took 
his leave, shaking hands very cordially with Mrs. Smith ; 
and as he walked home his mind was full of the beautiful 
and lonely lady at the inn. He was deeply interested 
in her and most anxious to help her, but he felt that it 


THE RECTORS S VISIT. 


119 


lay in little Eva’s power to do far more for her than he 
could. 

With the simple and almost childlike faith that was 
one of the chief characteristics of his singularly calm and 
gentle disposition, he placed the matter before him who 
can do all things, and who sometimes sees fit to use the 
weakest instruments for his service. 

When, reaching home, he went upstairs and softly 
entering Eva’s little room stood by the bedside of the 
sleeping child, and looked fondly at her happy, uncon- 
scious face, his mind was still full of thoughts of Mrs. 
Smith. But they were no longer troubled thoughts, and 
as he stood there in the quiet moonlit room his lips 
moved, and he murmured, “A little child shall lead 
them.” 

Only a little child — a frail instrument ; but how power- 
ful when used hy him in whom alone we live and move 
and have our being ! 



:| 


CHAPTER XII. 


EVANS TURNS DESERTER. 


He who fights and runs away 
Will live to fight another day.” 



H, dear me, yes,” said Mrs. Simons, “ it’s the 


scarlet fever sure enough. That’s a sickness 
there’s no mistaking. Well now, and to think that it 
all came o’ a bit of sheer carelessness ! ” 

Mrs. Simons, with her substantial red arms sub- 
merged to their fat elbows in soapsuds, was thus dis- 
coursing for the benefit of “ Mary Jane,” the rosy- 
cheeked maid of the inn, as they worked at their 
Saturday’s wash” in the back kitchen of that estab- 
lishment. 

Mrs. Simons’s tone was triumphant, intensely impor- 
tant. Was she not that weighty person the bearer of ill 
news ? 

It’s all along of folks’ carelessness,” she repeated 
impressively. 

“ Ay, and how may that be ? ” asked Mary Jane with 
deep interest. 

“ Well, it’s like this,” said Mrs. Simons, holding up 
a fat and extremely soapy forefinger. “ It’s like this. 
They’ve got the fever down in the town, and Jones’s 


( 120 ) 


EVA ATS TURNS DESERTER. 


I2I 


Willie he goes down there to visit his grandpapa. So 
when he comes back he falls sick and they sends for 
the doctor, and what is it but the fever. The doctor he 
says it’s terrible infectious, and that Willie he must ’a 
took it down town ; that’s what he sez as orter know.” 

“ Ah, in course,” assented Mary Jane. “ Deary me, 
it’s a bad job.” 

’Tis indeed,” said Mrs. Simons with much earnest- 
ness. “ For in this bit of a village if they get it at one 
house they’ll soon have it at another, and that’s plain.” 

Mrs. Smith’s maid was “getting up” some of her 
mistress’s fine lace at a table in the window, and had 
listened to the foregoing conversation in silence. Jane 
Evans was a very fine lady indeed in her own estima- 
tion, and she held herself aloof in haughty fashion from 
the simple folk of the inn, who in return resented her 
“airs and graces,” and thought none the better of her 
for them. 

But now she looked up and asked sharply, “ Who’s 
got scarlet fever ? Do you say it’s in this village ? ” 

“Ay indeed,” answered Mrs. Simons, who cherished 
no affection for Mrs. Smith’s maid, and was glad of this 
opportunity of giving her a fright. “ And not only in 
the village, but at the very next house to this. It’s 
a terrible infectious illness, so they do say,” she added 
briskly. 

Evans dropped the flat-iron she held, and it fell with 
a crash to the floor. 

■* “ Mercy on us ! ” she cried, throwing up her hands, 
while her usually florid countenance became extremely 
pale. “ Mercy on us ! And this is what comes of 
visitin’ out-of-the-way ’oles like this nasty Lavender. 
Well, I calls it a judgment on mistress for coming to 
such a place, that’s what I calls it.” 


122 


THE LITTLE LAD Y OF LA VENDER, 


And leaving Mrs. Smith’s fine old lace to take care of 
itself, Evans rushed out of the kitchen. She almost ran 
down the passage that led to her mistress’s apartments, 
and she applied her knuckles to the door with such 
energy, that Mrs. Smith, sitting quietly by the fire read- 
ing, was fairly startled. 

“ Come in,” she cried quickly ; and then, as her maid 
entered, what is wrong, Evans ? Has anything hap- 
pened ? ” 

Evans was usually a most composed and even digni- 
fied personage, but now she was crimson in the face 
from agitation, and it was difficult to understand much 
from the confused surge of ungrammatical statements 
that poured from her lips. 

You say there is scarlet fever in the village,” Mrs. 
Smith said in a quiet voice, when, the first volley had 
ceased, “ and that you are afraid of infection, isn’t that 
it?” 

“ Yes, ma’am, quite so ; and they say as the fever is 
most terrible catching. And oh, ma’am, I wish as I’d 
never come to this 'orrible place,” cried Evans, bursting 
into a perfect cascade of tears. “ For I know as I shall 
catch that fever, and then whatever will I do ? — I shall 
die. Oh, I’m sure and certain I shall. Oh, oh it is hard.” 

Mrs. Smith could scarcely restrain a laugh. Evans 
made a very ludicrous picture, with rivulets of tears 
streaming down her florid countenance, and was a strik- 
ing contrast to her usually dignified self. 

“ Don’t agitate yourself, Evans,” her mistress said 
quietly, after a moment’s reflection ; “ you have no need. 
As you are so alarmed, you shall return to London at 
once — you can go to-day if you like. You can take 
such of my boxes as are already packed with you, and I 
will follow on Monday.” 


EVANS TURNS DESERTER. 


123 


Evans looked inexpressibly relieved. 

“ Thank you, ma’am, I’m sure you are very kind — very 
kind,” she said in a tone of deepest gratitude. Then, her 
fears for herself being set at rest, she began to think a 
little of her mistress. 

“ But you, ma’am, surely you’ll not stay in this in- 
fected spot till Monday?” she asked. “Please let me 
pack all your things and let both of us go back to Lon- 
don to-day. Oh blessed, blessed London ! ” cried Evans, 
turning up her eyes and clasping her hands. “ How 
’appy and how thankful I shall be to find myself safe in 
it once more.” 

Mrs. Smith could not resist a smile. 

“You do not admire the country, Evans? But no, I 
shall not return to town before Monday. I am not in 
the least afraid of infection. You may go as soon as 
you please, and you had better speak to the landlord 
about a carriage to convey you to the station. Stay a 
moment ; I want you to bring me my hat and jacket. I 
am going out. I must go to the Rectory at once and 
warn them not to let little Miss Herbert go near the vil- 
lage.” 

Evans obeyed without further remonstrance. She 
satisfied what she called her conscience by the reflection 
that she had begged her mistress to leave Lavender at 
once, and that if Mrs. Smith insisted upon remaining 
there, it was not her fault. Clearly the best thing for her^ 
that is, Evans, was to decamp as speedily as possible. 
This much was very plain. I think Evans must have 
called to mind that old adage which tells us how “ He 
who fights and runs away will live to fight another day.” 
It is an adage that a good many people in this world 
find easy and convenient to adopt. 


CHAPTER XIIL 


POOR Dickie! 

¥ 

“Two words indeed of praying we remember. 

And at midnight’s hour of harm • 

‘ Our Father,’ looking upward in the chamber, 

We say softly for a charm.” 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 

T hat same morning, about an hour earlier, Eva, 
who was working very industriously in a small 
portion of the Rectory grounds that had been set off as 
her own garden, chanced to have need of the services of 
Dickie. 

That youthful gardener was the little lady’s sympa- 
thetic ally and devoted slave. Dickie thought there was 
no one in the world like “ Miss Eva.” And since her 
intercessory visit to the ogre, and the great success that 
her pleadings for Davy had met with, he considered her 
even more wonderful than ever. 

When Eva was gardening she was almost invariably 
attended by Dickie. The little lad would do combat 
with sturdy weeds that defied the baby fingers of 
“ missy,” and would break lumps of earth and carry big 
stones that were too much for the tiny lady’s strength. 
Eva found him quite an invaluable assistant, and seldom 
worked without him. 

(124) 


POOR DICKIE! 


125 


But this morning, although Eva was very particularly 
busy taking up some bedding-out plants, and had 
worked away with such unsparing energy that her pretty 
little face was nearly as pink as the gay peonies that still 
flourished in her garden, Dickie had failed to put in an 
appearance. 

Eva began to wonder where he was, and standing still, 
she leaned on her small spade and looked around her for 
the truant. But no Dickie was to be seen, only old 
Philip clipping the thick ivy that covered the stable 
wall. 

At this moment a little figure came down the carriage 
drive between the tall box hedges, a small boy of some 
eight or nine years old, with a rosy face and a tangle of 
yellow hair. Eva recognized him at once. He was 
Dickie’s little brother. 

“ Good-morning, Joe,” she said, going forward to 
meet him. “ I hope you are'quite well,” she added, with 
the sweet politeness that came so naturally to her in 
addressing every one, rich or poor. 

“ Yes, thank you. Miss ’Vangeline, I be all right,” said 
Joe, giving his front curl a tug, which action he had been 
taught at school was a token of respect. 

“And how is your grandmother?” Eva asked kindly. 

“ She be well, thank’ee, miss,” Joe replied. “ But 
Dickie he be orful bad. I come up for to tell his 
reverence.” 

“ Is Dickie ill ? Oh, I didn’t know. I am so sorry ! ” 
cried Eva quickly. 

“ He be main bad, miss, so the doctor say, and granny 
she sent me up to tell his reverence and to ask him to step 
down. Granny she’s in a rare taking.” 

“ What is the matter with Dickie, Joe ? ” Eva asked 
gravely. 


126 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


It’s the fever, miss, so they say. And he do look 
mortal bad, poor Dickie do. Miss ’Vangeline. His face 
is that red, it looks as though ’twould scorch your fin- 
ger to lay it on it.” And Joe’s fortitude giving way, 
his small chubby countenance puckered up ominously, 
and two big tears chased each other down his nose and 
splashed on to his holland blouse. 

“ Don’t cry, Joe,” said Eva rather tremulously. “ Poor 
Dickie will soon be better. Has the doctor given him 
some medicine ? ” 

Granny says as she don’t believe no doctor’s stuff 
will make Dickie well again. Granny b’lieves as our 
Dickie is going to die,” sobbed Joe dismally. 

“ We will pray to God to make Dickie well, Joe,” 
said Eva quickly. “ God can do everything, you know. 
And now I will come with you and see your grand- 
mother and Dickie. Grandfather is out, and he won’t 
be back for a long time. I’m afraid, but perhaps I can 
help a little.” 

“ Granny’ll be main glad to see you. Miss ’Vangeline,” 
Joe said gratefully, while he rubbed his tearful face 
vigorously with the sleeve of his blouse. 

So the two children set out together, walking briskly 
side by side through the lanes that had sUch a short 
time back been gay with honeysuckle and wild roses, 
and now were strewn with the sere and yellow leaves of 
autumn. 

Ah ! where was the rector, where was Mrs. Smith, 
that they were not at hand to stay their little pet’s 
steps, to warn her of the danger into which she was 
running ? 

When Eva and little Joe reached the humble cottage 
where old Mrs. Harriss and her grandchildren lived, 
they found the door standing wide open, and they 


POOR DICKIE! 


127 


walked quickly through into the little kitchen. The 
kitchen seemed to be full of women, and in the midst 
stood Mrs. Harriss crying and gesticulating. Eva ran 
up to her and took her hand. 

“ Dear Mrs. Harriss,” she said in her sweet, earnest 
way, I am so sorry for you all. I wish I could help 
you. I will if I can. Where is Dickie ? May I go 
and see him ? ” 

“ Bless the dear lamb ! ” cried a woman who stood by, 
“ what a kind heart she have, to be sure ! ” 

“ Did you ever, then ? — the pretty dear ! ” murmured 
another neighbor. 

Dickie’s grandmother stared at the little lady with 
tearful eyes. “You, Miss ’Vangeline! You can’t do no 
good here, thank’ee, missy. This here ain’t no place for 
you. Why it would frighten you only to see our poor 
lad, he looks so mortal bad.” 

“ I could never be afraid of Dickie,” answered Eva 
in a surprised tone. “ May I go and see him now, 
please, Mrs. Harriss?” 

“ You won’t be afeard, missy ? ” 

“ Why should I be afraid ? ” asked the little girl, with 
wide open eyes ; and then she took Mrs. Harriss’s hand 
and said imperatively, “ Please take me to him this 
dreckly minute.” 

Mrs. Harris led the way into an inner room adjoining 
the kitchen, where, on a small bed against the wall, 
Dickie lay. His face was flushed crimson, and his 
widely-opened eyes were unnaturally bright. He stared 
wildly at his old grandmother and the little visitor as 
they entered the room, but there was no recognition in 
the glance. 

“ Poor Dickie — he looks very cudous” said Eva 
anxiously to Mrs. Harris, Then she went to the bed- 


128 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


side and took the little lad’s hot hand in hers. 
“ Dickie,” she said gently, “ I am so sorry you are 
sick.” 

But Dickie, tossing restlessly on his crumpled pillows, 
did not seem to hear the gentle little voice he knew and 
loved so well, did not appear to feel the touch of the 
light little hand. 

“ Is he asleep? ” Eva asked, raising her anxious eyes 
to Mrs. Harriss’s tearful countenance. 

“ No, missy, he’s deleerous,” Mrs. Harriss answered 
with a sob. 

“ What’s deleerous ? Does it hurt ? ” asked the little 
girl tremulously. 

“ It means as he don’t know nothin’. Miss ’Vangeline 
— he don’t even know you nor me no more than if we 
was strangers,” explained the old woman tearfully. 

“ Ah,” said Eva in a low voice, “ how dreadful ! ” 

A shudder ran through her slight little frame, and 
she caught in her breath. 

“ I — I have never seen any one very sick before,” she 
said falteringly. 

“ Be you afeard, missy ? ” old Mrs. Harriss asked 
quickly. 

“ Oh no,” said Eva, “ not afraid, not that ! But oh, 
it is very dreadful ! ” 

Little Joe had crept after them into the room, and 
was crouching at the bottom of the Ijed, watching his 
brother with frightened, wistful eyes. 

“ Come here, Joe,” said Eva, holding out her hand. 
“ Come and kneel down by me, and we will pray God 
to make poor Dickie better.” 

Joe came forward crying, and the children knelt 
down side by side by the little bed. The autumn sun- 
light streaming in at the open casement flooded the 


POOR DICKIE! 


129 


humble room with soft, golden light and fell on the two 
little figures and upon Eva’s sweet upturned face. 

“ Our Father,” said the soft, innocent voice of the 
little girl. “ Our Father which art in Heaven.” And as 
the words of the beautiful prayer which our Lord him- 
self taught to his disciples so many years ago, and 
which has been repeated by thousands of lips since 
those days of old, fell upon that quiet room, little Joe’s 
tears stopped and Dickie ceased tossing upon his 
pillows, and it was as when after the storm comes a 
blessed calm. 

9 


CHAPTER XIV. 


IN MRS. HARRISS’S COTTAGE. 

“ It is not by deliberate but by careless selfishness that the weight of 
national evil increases upon us daily.” — Ruskin, 

M rs. Smith hurried off to the Rectory at once. 

She was in such haste that she did not wait to 
change her thin house shoes for walking boots, and she 
buttoned her jacket as she hastened down the lane. 
That five minutes’ walk down the lane appeared to have 
suddenly lengthened into a half hour’s trudge. The way 
seemed interminable. 

Mrs. Smith almost ran. She was hot and breathless 
when, after what seemed to have become a terribly long 
and weary walk, she lifted the latch of the great white 
gate of the Rectory grounds. She glanced anxiously to 
right and left as she walked down the carriage drive, but 
Eva was not in sight, nor was she to be seen on the lawn 
before the house. 

Mrs. Smith rang the bell sharply. She felt very un- 
easy, and could not rest until she knew Eva was safely 
within the precincts of her home. 

As the servant came to the door, the rector crossed 
the lawn, and, seeing Mrs. Smith, advanced to meet her 
with his kindly smile. 

(130) 


IN MRS. HARRISS^S COTTAGE. 131 

‘‘A charming morning for September, is it not? You 
must come and look at my roses ; there are still some 
really fine specimens left,” he said. “ But you look tired 
and hot. Pray come into the house and rest. It is 
almost luncheon time, and Eva will be home immediately. 
She is a very punctual little maid.” 

He pushed open the glass door, and stood back for 
Mrs. Smith to pass in, but she hesitated, saying quickly, 
“ Eva is out ? Oh, where is she ? ” 

Mr. Herbert looked at her in surprise. 

“ I suppose she is in the village,” he said. “ Why, 
what is wrong, Mrs. Smith ? ” and his tone became very 
anxious when he saw how pale and agitated she looked. 

“You have not heard? Ah, I thought — I feared. I 
hurried here hoping to be in time. O Mr. Herbert, they 
have a case of fever in the village, though I do not know 
at what house. Have you no idea where Eva is ? ” 

Mr. Herbert looked very pale and grave, but he spoke 
quite calmly. 

“ I am afraid the child is in the village ” he said, “ but 
we must hope for the best. Eva is in better hands than 
ours.” 

Mrs. Smith scarcely seemed to hear the old clergy- 
man’s words. She wrung her hands together with an 
impatient gesture of grief, and looked into Mr. Herbert’s 
grave face with agonized, imploring eyes. 

“ Oh, she was all I had ! ” she cried wildly. “ It is 
cruel — cruel.” 

Then shrinking back, as though alarmed by her own 
words, she said hurriedly, “ I will go to the village at 
once — perhaps I may be in time. I may stop her from 
going to the infected house. Do you not think there is 
some hope ? ” 

Mr. Herbert laid a detaining hand on her arm. 


132 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


“ You must not agitate or alarm Eva,” he said. 
“ That would be the very worst thing possible. To see 
you so distressed as you are now would be sufficient to 
frighten a nervous child into a fever. I think it will be 
best for you to stay here and recover yourself while I go 
to the village in search of Eva.” 

“ Ah no, I will be quite calm,” cried Mrs. Smith 
imploringly. ” Oh, pray let me go. I shall be so quick 
— I shall run all the way, and perhaps I may be in 
time.” 

And before Mr. Herbert could say another word she 
hurried away up the drive. 

It is probable that in the whole course of her life 
Mrs. Smith had never hurried as she hurried on that 
September morning. She ran down the lane, perfectly 
regardless of the heat of the mid-day sun and the aston- 
ishment of the children coming home from school, and 
only stopped when she reached the cottage of Jones, 
the blacksmith, which was the first dwelling she came to. 

Mrs. Jones stood in the doorway knitting. She stared 
at ” The London lady ” in some surprise. 

“ Is — is Miss Herbert here ? ” asked Mrs. Smith in a 
quick, breathless voice. 

“ Miss 'Vangeline ? No mum, she ain’t,” Mrs. Jones 
replied shortly. She did not regard the “ ’aughty town 
madam ” with favor, and was not at all disposed to 
answer her questions amiably. She gave an aggressive 
sniff to express her independence and fixed her eyes on 
her knitting-pins. 

“ Do you know where she is ? ” Mrs. Smith asked im- 
patiently. 

“ No, I do not,” replied the uncommunicative wife of 
the blacksmith very shortly, and Mrs. Smith passed hur- 
riedly on. 


IN MRS. HARRISS'S COTTAGE. 


133 


The next cottage was Mrs. Harriss’s and some chil- 
dren were lingering by the little garden gate, staring 
with half-frightened interest at the open house door. 

Have you seen little Miss Herbert ? " said Mrs. 
Smith, addressing a sleepy-looking boy with a shock of 
red hair. 

He only stared at her silently. 

“ Can’t you reply to a question ? ” cried the lady im- 
patiently. 

“ Miss ’Vangeline be in yonder cottage, mum,” volun- 
teered a somewhat brighter specimen of Lavender youth. 

“ Where ? Which cottage ? ” 

“Yonder.” And Jjie boy pointed with a very grimy 
thumb to the dwelling of Mrs. Harriss. 

“ SheVe gone to see a lad theer what’s sick,” he ex- 
plained. 

Mrs. Smith’s face blanched at his words. She stepped 
quickly through the group of staring children, and pass- 
ing in at the garden gate went up the narrow cobbled 
path to the open door of the cottage. 

The little kitchen was full of women, gossiping and 
shaking their heads, advising and crying. She scarcely 
saw or heard them ; her mind was filled with one thought 
— Eva. 

“ Is Miss Herbert here ? ” she asked a woman who 
stood near the door. 

The woman started at her stern, imperative tone, but 
recovering herself said — 

“ Yes, mum, she’s with the sick lad.” 

“ He’s that bad the doctor fears as he’ll not pull 
through, mum,” volunteered another gossip, pushing to 
the front. 

“Whose cottage is this?” Mrs. Smith asked in her 
clear, imperative tones. 


134 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


“ It’s Mrs. Harriss’s,” said some one. “ Mrs. Harriss, 
you’re wanted.” 

The old woman came out from the inner room, her 
wrinkled face red and swollen with weeping, her eyes 
full of hopeless grief 

She was a pitiable sight enough, but there was no 
touch of compassion in Mrs. Smith’s tone when she 
addressed her. 

“ Do you know that the fever is infectious ? ” she asked. 

“ Well, ma’am, doctor did say,” faltered the old woman, 
looking frightened, “ that — that it might be — but ” 

“ But you allowed little Miss Herbert to go to the sick 
child ? ” concluded Mrs. Smith sternly. 

“ She — she were set on going,” whimpered old Mrs. 
Harriss, now fairly frightened. 

^‘You wicked woman!” cried Mrs. Smith, and her 
eyes flashed passionately on the cowering Mrs. Harriss. 

How dared you ? If Miss Eva takes the fever it will 
be your fault, and I will see that you are properly pun- 
ished for your wretched conduct.” 

Then, drawing up her tall figure to its full height, Mrs. 
Smith swept through the group of astounded neighbors, 
and crossing the kitchen entered the little bedroom 
beyond. 

Dickie was tossing restlessly on his little bed, uncon- 
scious of all around him. Evangeline sat by the bedside 
talking softly to little Joe, who stood near her. An open 
Bible lay on the little girl’s lap, from which she had evi- 
dently been reading to the boy. 

Mrs. Smith went up to the children, who had not 
noticed her entrance, and laid her hand on Eva’s shoulder. 

“ Come away, dear,” she said ; you can be of no use 
here.” 

Eva looked up eagerly. “ O Mrs. Smith dear, I am 


IN MRS. HA R KISSES COTTAGE. 


135 


SO glad you have come !” she cried. “ Perhaps you can 
do something to make Dickie better. He’s so ill, poor 
little boy. Mrs. Hairriss says he doesn’t know any one ; 
isn’t it dreadful ? ” 

“ The doctor will take care of the boy,” said Mrs. 
Smith impatiently. “ Come, Eva, your grandfather wants 
you, and you can do no good here. Come,” she repeated, 
taking the little girl’s hand and drawing her towards the 
door. 

“ But grandfather would like me to stay with Dickie 
’cos he’s sick,” said Eva, drawing back. 

“ No, no, your grandfather wants you at home. He 
sent me to fetch you,” cried Mrs. Smith, detaining her 
unwilling hand. ” You must comt” she said desperately. 

Evangeline had been taught to obey, and when Mrs. 
Smith spoke thus imperatively she made no further 
objection, but turned to follow her from the room. 

“ Good-bye, Joe,” she said, with a wistful glance at the 
little boy. “ I will come again very soon.” 

“ Come,” repeated Mrs Smith in an agony of impa- 
tience, and taking Eva’s hand she drew her away. 

The kitchen was still full of talkative though sympa- 
thetic neighbors, and in the midst sat Mrs. Harriss, her 
apron held to her eyes, sobbing audibly. Eva suddenly 
withdrew her hand from Mrs. Smith’s and went up to the 
old woman. 

Mrs. Harriss,” she said, with a whole world of sym- 
pathy in her sweet, innocent little face, “ I’m ever so sorry 
for you. Don’t cry, poor Mrs. Harriss ! God can make 
Dickie well, and I will pray him with all my heart to do 
so. Won’t you leave off crying and pray too, Mrs. 
Harriss ? ” 

The old woman seized the childish hand and kissed it. 

“ God bless you. Miss Eva ! ” she cried in a broken 


136 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


voice. “ I never thought to harm you. Heaven knows 
as I didn’t." 

You have not harmed me, Mrs. Harriss,” said Eva 
in a surprised tone. “ Of course not. I wonder what 
made you think so ? Good-bye. I wish I need not go 
away, but my grandfather wants me. But I’ll come back, 
I’ll be sure to come back. And you won’t forget the 
prayer, will you ? " 

She patted Mrs. Harriss’s wrinkled hand in the kind 
little way that so endeared her to her poor neighbors, 
and ran after Mrs. Smith, who was calling to her im- 
patiently from the threshold. Eva looked very grave as 
she walked down the garden path and through the little 
gateway into the lane by Mrs. Smith’s side. 

“ Mrs. Smith dear,’’ she said in a wistful tone, it seems 
a great pity that I have to leave those poor people when 
they are so ill and unhappy, doesn’t it ? ’’ 

‘‘ But your grandfather is wanting his little house- 
keeper, dear. He could not have had lunch alone." 

“ Ah no, I s’pose not," said Eva with a little sigh. “ I 
s’pose it’s all right. But I’m rather ’fraid Mrs. Harriss 
and Joe will think me unkind to leave them ; don’t you 
think they will ? " 

“ I am sure they will not. They know you too well." 

“ When there’s two duties it’s rather hard to know what 
to do," Eva remarked with a pensive little sigh. 

“ Eva darling, I’m afraid it will seem hard when you 
hear that we cannot let you go to see Dickie again while 
he is ill." 

“O Mrs. Smith 1" 

^‘Dickie is too ill to miss you, dear. And, Eva, you 
know your grandfather always does what is best for you." 

“ Yes," said the little girl in a low and rather tearful 


voice. 


IN MRS. HA R KISSES COTTAGE. 


137 


“ Well then, if he says, I do not want my little girl to 
go into the village, or to speak to any of the villagers 
for the present, you will know that he does it for the 
best.” 

“ I s’pose so, Mrs. Smith dear,” Eva assented rather 
tearfully. “ But oh, it does seem so unkind to stay away 
from poor little Dickie when he is ill. And Mrs. Harriss 
is so unhappy, and Joe too — oh, poor poor things ! ” 
And Eva horrified Mrs. Smith by suddenly bursting into 
tears. Hers was a very tender and sympathetic little 
heart, and she could not bear to seem unkind to her poor 
friends. 

Mrs. Smith, greatly distressed, took Eva in her arms 
and kissed her. 

“ My darling, Mrs. Harriss will understand — she won’t 
think you unkind. You know, dear, that your grand- 
father would never wish you to do what is wrong.” 

There was a moment’s silence, and then Eva looked 
up at her with the light of unquestioning childish faith 
in her blue eyes. “Yes, grandfather knows best,” she 
said simply, and after an instant added, “ Mrs. Smith 
dear, I was naughty to want to have my own way. I 
won’t go to the village ; but I will pray to God to make 
Dickie better. I can do that, can’t I ? ” 

“ Yes, indeed, my pet,” said Mrs. Smith, pressing the 
little hand she held. 

Mr. Herbert possessed a calm and even temperament, 
and although he was disturbed to hear that Eva had 
been into the infected cottage, and had actually touched 
the sick boy, he took the information very quietly. He 
told Mrs. Smith, who was far less calm about the matter, 
that he considered fever not infectious at such an early 
stage ; but she was not reassured, and was indeed in an 


138 THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 

agony of nervous dread about Eva. She watched her 
with painful anxiety, and fancied that she detected a sus- 
picious symptom in the child^s every movement and look. 
She had seen something, years before, of scarlet fever 
and of the fatal infection so easily conveyed, and she 
remembered with horror that Eva had gone quite close 
to, and had probably even bent over, the fevered child. 

On Monday Mrs. Smith was obliged to return to Lon- 
don, for she had an engagement to sing at a concert on 
the evening of that day. Saturday and Sunday appeared 
to her to fly by as on the wings of the wind, and the 
dreaded day of departure dawned all too soon. 

Eva drove Mrs. Smith to the station in her own little 
pony carriage. It was a comfort to Mrs. Smith to see 
her looking bright and well, and her eyes lingered wist- 
fully on the sweet, childish face. 

“ You will write to me, Eva? ” she said, as they drew 
near to the station. “ Write and tell me all you are 
doing.” 

“ I shall write ever so often ! ” cried Eva, and then her 
blue eyes filled with tears. “ I shall miss you every day, 
always. Oh, I wish you could stay ! ” 

Mrs. Smith experienced a selfish satisfaction in seeing 
Eva’s grief She felt that she could not have borne it if 
the child had been indifferent to the parting. 

When, on the empty platform of the lit(le country 
station, she took Eva in her arms and whispered the 
cruel word “ good-bye,” her beautiful face was blanched, 
and her voice shook so that she could hardly frame the 
words. 

“ Don’t forget me, darling,” she said tremulously, and 
Eva, clinging to her, answered — 

I shall ’member you always, dearest Mrs. Smith.” 

As the London train steamed out of the station Mrs. 


IN MRS. NARRISS^S COTTAGE. 


139 


Smith leaned from the car window for a last look at 
the little girl. Eva stood on the platform, a straight, 
slim little figure in a white frock and broad-brimmed hat, 
with her ever-constant guard Julia by her side. The 
bright sunshine of the fine autumn morning lighted up 
the sweet, eager face of the little lady of Lavender, and 
she was waving her small pocket handkerchief with 
much energy and repeatedly kissing her hand. 

Mrs. Smith sank back into a corner of the empty 
compartment and covered her face with her trembling 
hands. 

“ O my child — my child ! My lost darling ! ” she 
cried. 

And so she went out into the great lonely world again, 
and her quiet happy time at Lavender, and the sweet child- 
face that had made it all it had been to her, seemed as 
bright things of the past — even as a dream when one 
awaketh ! 



CHAPTER XV. 


TROUBLE AT THE RECTORY. 


“ A simple child . . . that lightly draws its breath 

And feels its life in every limb, what can it know of death ? ” 


Let the serene Philosopher sit down, 
Knowing that sorrow is the gift of God, 
And bid the streams of consolation flow.” 



'HE master of The Turrets was accustomed to re- 


ceive one other visitor besides little Eva Herbert. 
This was his doctor — Dr. Pinchin, who drove over from 
the neighboring town every alternate day to see Captain 
Ransom. 

Dr. Pinchin was a tall, lanky gentleman, with large 
dolorous eyes of palest gray color, thin, wispy red 
hair, and a thin, wispy red beard. 

Dr. Pinchin was by no means a cheerful or reassuring 
doctor. He was wont to shake his head and roll his 
eyes in a dismal manner when he looked at a patient. 
He was one of those melancholy people who persistently 
look on the dark side of life, and who insist upon taking 
the most dismal view of everything. 

He was particularly irritating to Captain Ransom, 
who regarded him in the light of a necessary evil, and 
only tolerated his visits because his bad health made 
them absolutely unavoidable. 


(140) 


TROUBLE AT THE RECTORY. 141 

This morning, two days after Mrs. Smith’s departure 
to London, Dr. Pinchin stood by Captain Ransom’s 
bedside in a large and luxuriously furnished bedroom 
at The Turrets, and regarded his patient with dismal 
eyes. Jackson stood at the foot of the bed in an “ on 
parade” attitude. He pitied the doctor during his 
visits to his master, but for some unknown reason en- 
tertained a polite contempt for him. 

“ Well, Pinchin, what are you waiting for ? ” asked 
his patient unceremoniously. “You’ve inspected my 
tongue, and punched my back, and gone through all 
the usual formula. Are you going to introduce some 
fresh performance, eh ? ” 

“ No, I do not think so,” replied Dr. Pinchin mildly. 
“ At that instant I was thinking of another case. I have 
my hands full of fever patients. Captain Ransom, and 
they occupy much of my thoughts and attention. No 
doubt you have heard that there is scarlet fever in the 
village of Lavender.” 

“ Oh, I have heard,” said the master of the Turrets 
snappishly. “ It’s an ill wind that blows nobody good, 
and I suppose the epidemic will fill your pockets, eh ? ” 

Dr. Pinchin was accustomed to his wealthy patient’s 
unamiable speeches, and took this one quite as a matter 
of course. 

^ “ I don’t fancy,” he said calmly, “ that the fever will 
make much difference in the condition of my pockets. 
It is chiefly among the quite poor people of the neigh- 
borhood; in fact I have only one patient of a higher 
class — little Miss Herbert, at the Rectory.” 

Captain Ransom uttered so forcible an exclamation 
that Dr. Pinchin fairly jumped. 

“Has little Miss Herbert got the fever?” he almost 
shouted. 


142 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


“ I — I am sorry to say that such is the case,” replied 
Dr. Pinchin in a tone of mild surprise. 

“ And you are attending her ? ” demanded the invalid. 

‘‘Yes; I was called in yesterday. It is a very serious 
case ; in fact I ” 

“ Out with it, man. In fact you what ? ” 

“ I greatly fear that the poor little girl may not re- 
cover,” said the doctor gravely. 

The master of The Turrets brought his fist down on a 
table that stood by his bedside with such force that all 
the glasses and medicine bottles on it fairly jingled. 

‘‘ Great , sir, but she shall get better ! ” he cried, 

looking furiously at the astonished doctor. 

“ I am sure ” began Dr. Pinchin. 

” Bring my clothes immediately, Jackson,” shouted 
Captain Ransom to his valet. “ Pm going to get up. 
And ring the bell and tell them that I shall want my 
bath-chair in half an hour’s time. Be quick, you idiot. 
What are you standing staring for ? ” 

Jackson cast an apologetic glance at Dr. Pinchin and 
hastened to obey his master’s orders. 

“ I will wish you good-morning as you are in haste to 
rise. Captain Ransom,” said the doctor mildly. 

” Good-morning,” returned his patient shortly. ‘‘ My 
dressing-gown, Jackson. Make haste, you snail — and 
have you ordered the bath-chair ? ” 

Dr. Pinchin retired from the scene in a condition of 
mild amazement. He decided that the master of The 
Turrets was the most peculiar patient on his list, which 
was saying something ! 

Mr. Herbert was sitting at the writing-table in his 
study — not writing, he was far too anxious and sorrow- 
ful for that, but trying to rest and think for a few 


TROUBLE AT THE RECTORY. 


143 


moments, when a servant entered with a card on a 
salver. 

The rector took the card with a wearied sigh. 
Visitors were few and far between at Lavender Rectory, 
and he thought, with a slight touch of impatience, that 
this one, whoever he or she might be, could not have 
chosen a more inopportune time. But when he glanced 
at the name on the card he rose to his feet with an ex- 
clamation of surprise and followed the servant out of the 
study, saying, “ I will go and speak to the gentleman 
myself.” 

Before the porch was drawn up a small, neat bath-chair, 
drawn by a well-groomed donkey, and in the little car- 
riage sat, or rather lay, a thin pale-faced man, the master 
of The Turrets. 

“ How is she ? ” asked the invalid abruptly, when the 
old clergyman came to his side. 

” She is very ill,” answered Mr. Herbert sorrowfully. 

“ Who is attending her — what doctor ? ” demanded 
Captain Ransom in his sharpest tone. 

“ Our local practitioner. Dr. Pinchin.” 

“Our local idiot exclaimed the master of The Tur- 
rets impatiently. “ I let Pinchin attend me because he 
does very well for my case, in which there is now no im- 
minent danger; but in case of extremity I wouldn’t 
trust him wiUi the life of a cat. You had better send for 
some London man.” 

“ I do not know for whom to send. I suggested it to 
Dr. Pinchin, but he seems to think that all that is possi- 
ble is being done, and that it is useless,” said the rector 
sadly. 

“Bother Pinchin!” cried Captain Ransom irritably. 

“ If you’ll allow me I will telegraph for M . If 

expense is any consideration, banish that from your 


144 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


mind, please. I owe a debt of gratitude to your little 
granddaughter, sir, and I shall esteem it a favor on 
your part if you will let me undertake that part of the 
business.” 

“You are very kind,” answered the rector gratefully. 
“ But it is not fear of expense that prevents my sending 
for a London doctor. Had Dr. Pinchin expressed any 
desire for assistance ” 

“ You might as well wait for a snail to make a suggestion 
as Pinchin,” interrupted Captain Ransom. “ With your 

permission, I will telegraph for M at once,” he added, 

turning his pale face eagerly on Mr. Herbert. 

“ I cannot refuse,” said the old clergyman. “ There 
may be a chance ” He broke down and turned away. 

“ There are ten thousand chances ! ” exclaimed the 
master of The Turrets. “ There must be — there shall. 
The child is young, healthy, full of life ; she has every- 
thing in her favor.” 

“She is in God’s hands,” said Mr. Herbert simply. 

“Who is nursing her? ’’the master of The Turrets 
asked in his abrupt manner. 

“ Her maid and a woman from the village. The latter 
has had some experience in illness. Between them I 
think they are fully competent to carry out the doctor’s 
orders.” 

“ Have you no female relative who would come and 
superintend — surely there is some one ? ” asked Captain 
Ransom impatiently. “ I am sure the child should not be 
left to the tender mercies of hirelings. There must be 
some lady ! ” he added in an exasperated tone. 

“ Unfortunately there is no one,” Mr. Herbert replied 
sadly. 

“ Where’s Mrs. Smith ? ” asked Captain Ransom 
suddenly and abruptly. 


TROUBLE AT THE RECTORY. 


145 


“ Mrs. Smith ! ” repeated the rector, starting back in 
surprise. I did not know you were acquainted with 
that lady,” he added in an explanatory tone. 

“ Your granddaughter has told me of her,” Captain 
Ransom replied curtly. “ Where is she ? Why not send 
for her ? ” 

“ I should scarcely like to trouble a — well, compara- 
tively speaking, a stranger,” said Mr. Herbert. “ You do 
not perhaps know that our acquaintance with Mrs. Smith 
is a very short one. Although she was most kind to my 
little girl, I should not feel justified in making this call 
upon her. I think it would be very little short of an im- 
pertinence,” he added with some warmth, for he con- 
sidered Captain Ransom’s suggestion most extraordinary. 

“ Pooh — nonsense,” snapped the invalid with an im- 
patient gesture. “ She’ll be glad to come — I will answer 
for it. She may be the saving of Eva too, and at all 
events she will nurse her as no one else would or could. 
D’ye know her address ? ” 

“ I do not. Besides I should not dream of troubling 
her,” Mr. Herbert replied stiffly. 

An angry shadow crossed the invalid’s sallow face. 

“You are obstinate!” he cried, “and I suppose you 
call it proper pride. I should like to know what’ll 

become of your pride when you see Eh, Jackson, 

what is it ? ” as the valet approached in his most respect- 
ful manner and spoke a few words to his master in a tone 
too low for Mr. Herbert to distinguish what he said. 
But Captain Ransom heard, and the scowl passed from 
his face. “ It is pf no use for me to argue with you, I 
can see,” he said, turning quite mildly and amiably to the 
rector. “ Well, good-morning. I shall send down for 
news of your little invalid shortly, and I trust it may be 

good news. My servant will telegraph for M im- 

10 


146 THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 

mediately, and he should be down here before dusk. 
He is a man in whom I place great confidence. I am 
certain he will effect wonders.” 

He proffered some cold finger-tips for the old clergy- 
man to shake, and then signalled to the watchful Jackson 
that he was ready to proceed. 

Mr. Herbert stood in the ivy-covered porch till the 
neat donkey carriage and the attentive servant were out 
of sight, and then, passing his hand over his face with a 
tired gesture, he went wearily back to his study. 

The prospect of the London doctor’s visit gave him no 
hope. He knew that Dr. Pinchin feared the worst ; he 
had seen it in his face when that morning he came out of 
the sick-room, and he had no cause to doubt Dr. Pinchin’s 
competency. 

He thought sorrowfully of the, changed little face, the 
emaciated, fevered little frame of the child in the quiet 
room above, and as he thought his keen, kindly eyes 
grew dim, and a tear fell heavily upon the open page of 
the book he held but could not read. 

Then he raised his eyes till they rested upon an 
engraving in an oak frame over the mantelpiece. It was 
a favorite picture of Eva’s, who was never tired of look- 
ing at it and of admiring it. It represented our Saviour 
blessing little children ; and when the old rector looked 
with tear-dimmed eyes and sorrow-pierced heart at the 
holy, tender face of the Divine Master whom he had 
loved and trusted for so many long years, the mist of 
doubt and misery rolled away from his heart. 

‘ Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid 
them not,’ ” he murmured ; and it was with the faith of a 
little child that he added, “And, Lord, thy will be 
done ! ” 


CHAPTER XVI. 


NURSE AND PATIENT. 

Pray for her at eve and morn 

That heaven may long the stroke defer, 

For thou may’st live the hour forlorn 
When thou wilt ask to die with her.” — Hood. 



HEN the autumn day was drawing to a close and 


V V the misty, gray twilight was stealing over the 
meadows and low-lying grounds of Lavender Rectory; 
when the west wind was sighing in the chimneys and 
eaves of the old house, and there was no other sound to 
break the sad stillness that prevailed, except the rustling 
of the dead leaves on the gravel drive and the wild cry 
of the pee-wits in the ploughed fields beyond the orchard, 
Mr. Herbert sat alone in his study. 

The room was in twilight; for no fire burned in the 
usually cheery grate, no candle in the tall, old-fashioned 
candelabre. Alone in the gloom Mr. Herbert sat — a 
motionless, bent figure, upon whom lay the heavy hand 
of sorrow. 

A great fear seized the heart of one who, pausing in 
the doorway, looked earnestly at the hopeless figure, and 
with difficulty she suppressed the cry that rose to her 
lips. 

Amid the general confusion and disorganization that 


(147) 


148 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


SO often follow when there is illness in a house, Mrs. 
Smith had come through the hall unobserved and un- 
heard. She had got out of the cab that had brought her 
from the station at the Rectory gate to avoid the noise 
of wheels in the drive, and she carried in her own hand 
the light valise which was all the luggage she had 
brought. 

Mrs. Smith advanced into the shadowy room. Her 
face was very pale and her mind was full of a nameless 
dread. 

“ Mr. Herbert,” she said in a low voice that trembled 
obviously though she strove to command it. 

He looked up hurriedly, and then rose to his feet in 
great surprise. 

“ Mrs. Smith ! Is it indeed you ? ” 

“ It is I,” she answered quickly. Is she better ? — 
tell me there is no danger.” 

“ Eva is very ill,” he answered in a low, sad voice. 
“ Our local practitioner, who saw her this morning, told 
me that — that he feared the worst.” He controlled^him- 
self with an effort, and continued, “ An eminent London 
physician saw her an hour ago — he confirms the opin- 
ion of the first doctor: It is a terribly virulent form of 
the fever.” 

The words of passionate rebellion died upon Mrs. 
Smith’s lips as she looked at the sorrowful but resigned 
face of this old man, to whom she knew Eva was all the 
brightness of life. She stood silent, with down-bent 
head and tightly clasped hands. But this was only for 
a moment ; then raising her face to his, she said — 

” Mr. Herbert, if earthly help can save her, she shall 
live. I have seen something of this fever, and I know 
the best way of treating it ; for which knowledge I am 
now inexpressibly thankful. I will nurse Eva as no one 


NURSE AND RAT/ENT. 


149 


else could or would,” she added, unconsciously repeating 
Captain Ransom’s words. “ I will nurse her with all 
the strength, all the skill I possess, untiringly, devotedly. 
Let us take courage ; she may live. Ah, I am sure that 
she will live!” she cried passionately. “You tell me 
that there is mercy in heaven ; if that is so, she will not 
not be taken from us.” 

Mr. Herbert looked shocked at her tone. “ God will 
do that which is best,” he said very gravely. “ But, 
Mrs. Smith, you must not forget your professional duties, 
your engagements. I cannot allow you to sacrifice 
yourself. And how did you hear of Eva’s illness ? ” he 
asked with sudden suspicion. 

“Your telegram,” said Mrs. Smith with some surprise. 

“ My telegram ! ” he repeated. “ I can only tell you 
that I never sent one.” 

Mrs. Smith opened her dressing-bag and took out a 
yellow envelope, which she silently put into Mr. Her- 
bert’s hand. It contained a telegraphic message, which 
in a wondering tone he read aloud — 

“ Lavender Rectory. — Come at once, if possible. 
Eva very ill with fever.” 

“ I did not send this,” he said. 

They looked at each other, and then Mrs. Smith 
asked — 

“ Who then could have done so ? ” 

A shade of annoyance crossed Mr. Herbert’s calm 
face as he replied — 

“ There is only one person — Captain Ransom.” 

“ I do not think he would be likely to send it,” she 
replied quietly. “ But, whoever sent for me, I am 
thankful I am here. You will not send me away, Mr. 
Herbert ? ” she pleaded, laying her hand on his arm and 


150 THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 

looking appealingly at his grave face. “ Oh, pray let me 
stay. Indeed it would break my heart to leave Eva as 
she is ! ” 

“ Let you stay ! ” Mr. Herbert repeated. “ Of course 
I would thankfully do so, Mrs. Smith, but I am think- 
ing of you and of your interests.” 

“ Which are centred in Eva,” she said quickly. 

Mr. Herbert looked earnestly at her beautiful pleading 
face. 

“ Then I can only say — stay.” 

“ Oh, thank you, thank you,” she cried eagerly, humbly. 
“ You shall not repent that word. All that human aid 
can give Eva shall have.” 

Then she went softly away, and Mr. Herbert sat on in 
the dusk of the autumn evening, a silent, lonely figure. 
Sitting there alone, he tried, with the wonderful patience 
peculiar to his singularly faithful and religious mind, to 
school himself to bear with resignation the blow that 
threatened him. What a blow it was no one, not even 
those who best knew the reserved and self-controlled 
man, could guess. 

When Mr. Herbert went upstairs half an hour later he 
found Mrs. Smith established as head nurse in his little 
granddaughter’s sick-room. Her calm, authoritative 
voice and noiseless, prompt movements exercised a great 
influence over Mollie the maid and the ignorant peasant 
woman who had been called in to assist her. Mollie looked 
sulky, but obeyed. How deeply she resented Mrs. 
Smith’s presence was only known to herself, for she 
wisely controlled her injured feelings. 

The arrival of Mrs. Smith brought about a great 
change in the sick-room. Quiet, order, and cleanliness 
reigned. Fresh air was no longer excluded. The 


NURSE AND PAT/ENT. 


151 

doctor’s orders were carried out to the letter. In fact 
the poor little patient was given some chance of recovery, 
whereas before she had had none ; for in their well- 
intentioned ignorance the untaught nurses who attended 
her had done more harm than good. 

Dr. Pinchin was charmed with the new regime. He 
gazed in speechless admiration at the active, business-like 
figure of Mrs. Smith as she moved about the quiet room 
with noiseless step and calm, composed face. 

Your little granddaughter has a wonderful nurse,” 
he told Mr. Herbert two days after Mrs. Smith’s arrival. 
“ It is a malignant form of fever, a very -serious case, 
but — er — well, I really begin to think we may entertain 
a little, yes, a /Me hope.” 

Dr. Pinchin spoke with extreme caution, but his words 
brought joy and gratitude inexpressible to the heart of 
the old clergyman. 

Poor little Eva lay unconscious and delirious, and it 
was intensely painful to Mrs. Smith to see her in such a 
sad state. She had seen very little of sick people, and 
was a perfectly self-taught nurse, and as the days wore 
by — long, trying days, and longer and more trying nights 
— with very little apparent change in Eva’s condition, 
she grew wearied and depressed. She was not a strong 
woman, and the strain and anxiety were great, sometimes 
they seemed overpowering. 

The October world outside was bright with sunshine 
and autumn flowers, but the old Rectory house seemed 
to its anxious inmates to be enveloped in a mist of sad- 
ness and of sorrow that no sunshine could dispel, no 
sweet flowers brighten. And in the quiet, roomy 
nursery, over the oaken floor of which so many little 
feet of bygone generations of children had pattered — 
little feet that had lain at rest for many a long year now 


152 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


— lay the unconscious little patient, while the brave and 
tender nurse never left her post. 

For three long weary weeks Eva lay between life and 
death, and then it became apparent to those who so 
anxiously watched her that the fever was abating. 

Dr. Pinchin’s face looked longer and graver than ever 
when he told Mrs. Smith that the next six hours would 
decide the case. 

“ The fever has burnt itself out,” he said, “ and it is just 
a question of strength. Our little patient has a good 
constitution, but it has been sorely tried. I doubt 
whether she has sufficient strength remaining to battle 
with the terrible weakness which I fear must ensue.” 

Mrs. Smith heard him silently. She looked, and was, 
almost worn out. Insufficient sleep and hurried meals, 
for which her anxiety deprived her of appetite, were be- 
ginning to tell on her never strong constitution. Three 
weeks of watching and nursing seemed to have taken 
three years from her. 

We shall have you knocking up next, Mrs. Smith,” 
Dr. Pinchin said, looking at her very solemnly over the 
top of his silver-rimmed spectacles. “ You had better go 
and lie down, if it is only for a couple of hours. I shall 
remain here for the present, and will call you should 
there be the least change in our little patient’s condi- 
tion.” 

What ! quit my post at the critical moment ! ” cried 
Mrs. Smith. “ Surely you credit me with more pluck 
than that would imply ? ” 

Then she looked at him with terrible anxiety, and her 
voice was almost imploring as she said — 

“ Do you think we have some brief chance, Dr. 
Pinchin ? ” 

“ We must hope for the best,” he replied evasively. 


NURSE AND RAT/ENT. 


153 


Hope for the best ! How many a poor anxious heart 
has quailed at that brief sentence which conveys so very 
little hope ! 

Presently Dr. Pinchin went downstairs to speak to the 
rector, and Mrs. Smith was left alone with her little 
charge, for the hired nurse had gone to her home for an 
hour or two, and Mollie was resting. 

Mrs. Smith seated herself in a high-backed chair of 
carved oak that stood beside the bed and looked 
anxiously at her little patient. Eva lay very white and 
still upon her pillows. The flush of fever had died out 
of her thin cheeks, and she seemed to be sleeping 
quietly. It was a blessed sight to Mrs. Smith. She 
hoped great things of that sleep, and thought anxiously 
of the awakening from it. 

As she sat intently watching the child, her tired, 
heavy eyelids drooped, and her head sank back on the 
plush cushions of the high-backed chair. Presently her 
eyes closed, and so at her post Mrs. Smith fell asleep. 

The old cuckoo clock on the nursery mantelpiece was 
proclaiming the hour of six, and a shaded lamp was 
burning on the small table near the bed when Mrs. 
Smith awoke. She awoke with a guilty start and a 
great pang of self-reproach. It all dawned upon her in 
an instant — she had fallen asleep at her post ! She had 
failed in her duty ! 

Poor thing ! tired out, she was certainly not much to 
blame ; but she did not reflect on that, and she felt at 
the instant that she hated herself for that miserable 
weakness, that unpardonable lapse from duty. 

But surely she must still be dreaming, she told herself, 
or was it, could it be reality, this little cool hand lying 
quietly on hers? She turned to the bed and met the 


1 54 the little lady of lavender. 

wistful gaze of Eva’s blue eyes, calm and bright with the 
light of reason ; and when she heard the gentle child 
voice that she loved so well, she knew that it was no 
dream but a blessed reality. 

“ Mrs. Smith dearest,” said Eva earnestly. “ How 
dreffly tired you look.” 

“ O Eva, my pet, my darling, my own little girl ! ” 

But after that one cry, the cry of an overburjdened heart, 
Mrs. Smith put a firm restraint on herself and relapsed 
into the calm and business-like though tender nurse, 
to which role she had become curiously accustomed. 

Eva was very weak, as Dr. Pinchin had expected, and 
she required most careful watching and constant nour- 
ishment. It was necessary too that she should be kept 
perfectly quiet, and all talking was strictly prohibited. 

Mrs. Smith kept up her character of an excellent 
nurse. She was quiet and calm, and did and said all 
that was required of her. 

But when Mollie came to take her place, and Eva 
having fallen quietly asleep, she could leave her for a 
few moments, she stole away to her own room, there to 
face her great relief and joy alone. Then she did what 
she had not done for years, not since a bright and 
happy part of her life that seemed to her very far away 
in the past — fell upon her knees and thanked God in 
broken words for his great mercy to her. No words of 
prayer had passed those poor, proud lips for days, nay 
years, of sad and bitter penitence and vain regrets and 
anxious sorrow, no cry for relief, no appeal for help. 
But now, overcome by this great and unexpected mercy, 
the haughty spirit bent in wondering gratitude and deep 
thanksgiving. 

Surely then was there “joy in the presence of the 
angels of God over one sinner that repenteth.” 


CHAPTER XVII. 


GOOD-BYE ! 


Child of the pure, unclouded brow 
And dreaming eyes of wonder ! 

I shall not see thy sunny face 
Nor hear thy silver laughter; 

No thought of me shall find a place 
In thy young life’s hereafter! ” 



FTER that happy evening, when the anxious 


watchers at Lavender Rectory knew that the 
child of so many hopes and fears was to be mercifully 
spared to them, Eva grew gradually but surely better 
and stronger. 

It was uphill work, for the little girl was dreadfully 
weak ; but at last, one bright day about a month later, 
she was able to go downstairs and sit by the study fire 
wrapped in shawls, greatly to her own delight and to 
that of her nurses. 

It was the end of November and very cold weather. 
The village of Lavender was enveloped in gray fog, and 
already the children coming home from school could 
slide on the frozen duck pond, while the many bright 
berries on the holly bushes proclaimed a hard winter. 

As yet no word had been said of Mrs. Smith’s de- 
parture, People in town were asking what had become 
of the popular professional singer who was all the 


(* 55 ) 


156 THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 

fashion ; and she had thrown up a valuable engagement 
at the opera. Her professional friends wrote indignant 
letters to her, telling her that she was ruining her pros- 
pects. She had broken countless engagements to sing 
at concerts, private parties, etc. But she seemed very 
little troubled by all this — exasperatingly so, those who 
were interested in her future career thought. 

Her great beauty and her wonderful voice had raised 
her at once to a pinnacle of success in the world of 
fashion and of art. Those who knew best about the 
matter assured her that a brilliant future lay before her. 
And now she was deliberately wasting her splendid pros- 
pects and ruining her connection. 

But to Mrs. Smith there was ample compensation in 
the quiet happiness of that simple country home — in the 
sound of a child’s sweet voice, the touch of a child’s 
little hand. She was perfectly content. 

The master of The Turrets sent every day to inquire for 
Eva, and Jackson seldom came without bringing some 
present, usually a costly one, for the little girl. But Cap- 
tain Ransom did not himself come again to the Rectory; 
Dr. Pinchin said that the severe weather kept him indoors. 

Mr. Herbert called at The Turrets, and was, to his 
surprise, admitted. Captain Ransom treating him with ex- 
traordinary politeness. He came away thinking what a 
charming person the invalid officer was, and marvelling 
that he should have so misjudged him. 

One morning Mr. Herbert received a letter which de- 
lighted him very much. He and Mrs. Smith were break- 
fasting tHe-a-teie, as Eva was not allowed to get up very 
early, and they were both occupied with their letters 
which the post had just brought. 

Mr. Herbert looked up, his calm old face slightly 
flushed, a pleased light in his eyes. ' 


GOOD-BYE! 


157 


“ Mrs. Smith,” he said, “ I have excellent news here. 
My dear son is on his way home, and he hopes to be 
here, at Lavender, in a week’s time. How happy little 
Eva will be at the prospect of seeing her father ! How 
thankful I shall be to see my boy once more ! ” 

Mrs. Smith looked up with a start from the letter she 
was reading. “ I — I am glad,” she said in a hurried, 
nervous voice. Her face had become very pale. 

Mr. Herbert did not notice her look or ?bne. His 
thoughts were fully occupied with his son. 

“ Geoffrey is all that is left to me of a once large and 
happy family of boys and girls,” he said — “ Geoffrey and 
little Eva.” His kindly gray eyes were dim with emotion. 

“ I am glad that he is coming to you,” Mrs. Smith 
repeated gently. 

The old clergyman began to speak of his son, of his 
youthful days at school and college, of his many good 
qualities, of his cleverness and courage. It was a theme 
dear to his heart, and he discoursed upon it until the end 
of breakfast. When the meal was concluded he took 
his letter and went upstairs to tell Eva the good news it 
contained. 

Mrs. Smith caught up a shawl and went out into the 
garden. It was a bright, though frosty morning, and the 
icicles hanging from the eaves of the old house glittered 
and shone like diamonds in the sunlight. Eva’s little 
friends the robins were enjoying a perfect feast of crumbs 
on the stone balcony outside the nursery window, and 
the foxhound puppies and the young collie dog were 
chasing each other over the frozen white grass of the 
lawn, Pom-pon trotted out of the house after his mis- 
tress ; he was her unfailing companion, going wherever 
she went and absolutely refusing to be left behind. He 
looked very smart, for Eva had tied his funny black 


IS8 THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 

forelock with a cherry-colored ribbon. The bells and 
steel bangles with which he was further adorned jin- 
gled and chinked cheerfully as he moved. 

Mrs. Smith paced slowly up and down the gravel 
drive, wrapped in thought. Old Philip, clipping the high 
box-hedge, looked curiously after her. 

“ Her’s a rum sort,” he muttered. “ Her an’ her dawg. 
I don’t hold with folk what has outlandish dawgs like 
that theere. It’s my opingon as they didn’t ought to be 
encouraged, cert’nly not in respectable Rectory ’ouses — 
so theere ! ” 

Presently Eva, happening to go to the nursery window, 
saw Mrs. Smith, and eagerly waved to her to come up. 

Mrs. Smith nodded and smiled to the little girl, and 
went slowly back into the house. As she entered the 
porch Mr. Herbert was crossing the hall. 

“ A beautiful morning, isn’t it ? ” he said, turning to 
her with his brightest smile. 

“ A beautiful morning,” she acquiesced absently. “ Mr. 
Herbert, I heard from London this morning. I find 
I shall have to go back there early next week.” 

Ah ! We shall be very sorry to lose you, Mrs. 
Smith, but we have already trespassed terribly on your 
kindness. However, I hope that you will at all events 
be able to stay till my son comes, that he may himself 
thank you for your devoted kindness to his little girl.” 

No — oh no, that is quite impossible,” said Mrs. 
Smith hastily. “ Nothing must prevent my returning to 
London on Tuesday,” she added, speaking more quietly. 
“ I have a most important engagement on the evening of 
that day.” 

Mrs. Smith had shown such complete indifference to 
all her engagements hitherto that Mr. Herbert was sur- 
prised at her sudden eagerness about this one. 


GOOD-BYE! 


159 


“ I am sorry you must go before my son arrives,” he 
said. “ Geoffrey has heard of your goodness to Eva, 
and will, I am sure, be eager to thank you in person. 
You may imagine how grateful he feels to you.” 

” Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Smith,” called Eva’s voice over the 
staircase, and Mrs. Smith hurried away to her. “ Have 
you heard the good news, Mrs. Smith dear?” the little 
girl asked joyfully, as, taking her friend’s hand, she led 
her into the cosy nursery, where the firelight was flicker- 
ing on the oak-panelled walls and on the quaint old 
painted ceiling and the tapestried curtains. 

Mrs. Smith seated herself in a low basket chair by the 
fire and took Eva on her lap. 

“ I am rejoiced to hear your good news, dear,” she 
said gently. “ You will be very glad to see your father, 
I’m sure.” 

“ Ever so glad ! ” said Eva with a little sigh of pleasure. 

Are you glad too ? ” 

“ Ah — ^yes,” Mrs. Smith replied hurriedly. “ Very 
glad, of course — for your sake, Eva dear,” she added, 
with a change of tone. ” Do you know that I must 
leave you agaia soon ? I have to go back to my work 
in London.” 

” Oh, don’t go — you mustn’t go ! ” Eva cried, with 
tears starting to her blue eyes. 

I have to go. My work is waiting for me,” Mrs. 
Smith replied. 

Won’t you wait and see papa ? Oh, I shall be so 
'spointed if you don’t,” said Eva wistfully. 

“ I am obliged to go early next week.” 

Do stay at Lavender always, Mrs. Smith dearest. 
Grandfather and I want you very much,” said Eva, 
putting her arm round her neck. I shall miss you 
drefflyP she added in a very mournful voice. 


i6o 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


“ You will have your father,” Mrs. Smith answered in 
a hard tone. 

'‘But papa will love you too, oh. I’m sure he will,” 
exclaimed Eva earnestly. “ We shall all be ever so 
happy together. Do stay, dear Mrs. Smith, please do ! ” 

“ I can’t stay, Eva. I’m obliged to go.” 

“ Will you come back soon ? Will you come back 
at Christmas ? ” asked the little girl anxiously. 

” Mrs. Smith must come back at Christmas,” said Mr. 
Herbert, entering the room. " Mrs. Smith, you will not 
refuse to be our guest at that happy season ? ” 

” You are very kind to ask me,” she answered 
evasively. 

“ We shall take no refusal,” said the rector cheerfully ; 
“ eh, Eva ? ” 

“ Grandfather, don’t let Mrs. Smith go away at all ; 
I can’t spare her,” cried the little girl. 

"We have already trespassed very greatly on Mrs. 
Smith’s kindness, my child,” he answered gravely. 

" I do not go willingly,” said the lady in a low voice, 
and Eva felt the arm that surrounded her tighten its 
hold. She lifted her sweet little face and kissed Mrs. 
Smith. 

" Dearest Mrs. Smith,” she said, " I shall keep think- 
ing about Christmas, and it’s not so very far off; and 
then when you come I shall just ask papa to keep you 
fast, and never to let you go away from me any more.” 

But although she quite expected that she would re- 
turn to her at Christmas, Eva was dreadfully upset at 
the idea of Mrs. Smith’s departure. Delighted though 
the little girl was at the prospect of her father’s return, 
that prospect by no means made up to her for the loss 
of her friend. Eva fully appreciated the devoted and 


GOOD-BYE! 


i6l 


tender care that Mrs. Smith had lavished upon her 
during her illness. She had never known such care 
before, and it seemed a very beautiful thing to her. 
She had learned to go to Mrs. Smith in all her little 
joys and troubles, and to appeal to her in every small 
difficulty of her simple life. Mrs. Smith received her 
childish confidences with ready sympathy and interest; 
nothing connected with Eva was too trivial to command 
her most earnest attention. 

Eva had never known such a companion and friend. 

Mollie, although an amiable young person, was far from 
being intellectual, and Mr. Herbert, preoccupied with 
his books and writing, was able to give but little time 
to the child. 

“ O Mrs. Smith, darling, what shall I do without 
you ? ” exclaimed the little girl one evening, a day or 
two after Mrs. Smith had told her of her impending 
departure. 

“ I shall miss you equally, pet.” 

“ Then why do you go ? ” was Eva’s very natural 
question. Mrs. Smith,” she added wistfully, “ Mollie 
says you’re going ’cos you’re tired of staying with a 
little girl like me. Are you, Mrs. Smith dear ? Mollie 
says you’re bored. I don*t know what that word means,” 
said Eva reflectively. '‘You wear a boa round your 
neck, don’t you ? that funny fur thing like a long long 
pussy’s tail ; but I can’t see what that has to do with it ? ” 

“ There is no one in the world who bores me so little 
as you do, my Eva,” said Mrs. Smith, turning her beau- 
tiful earnest eyes on the child’s wistful face. “No, 
dearest, I would love to stay with you always — I would 
ask nothing better ; but I am obliged to go— you know 
I have my work in London. If I did not work I should 
have no money, and then what should I do?” she 


1 62 THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 

added, trying to speak gaily ; and then with deep tender- 
ness, “ You must not cry, my little pet, nor think of 
such a thing. You will have plenty to interest and 
occupy you now your father is coming back. He will 
be very glad, oh, so very glad, to be with his little girl 
again ; and you, Eva, must be a great comfort, a dear 
little companion to him. And when you write and tell 
me how happy you are,” she concluded very earnestly, 
” I shall feel happy too.” 

But Eva refused to be satisfied. 

“Why won’t you stay and be happy with us?” she 
persisted. She flung her arms about her friend, and 
pressed her lips to the soft cheek that had grown paler 
and thinner of late. “ Dearest, do stay ! ” she whispered 
softly. 

It was very hard for Mrs. Smith to resist Eva’s en- 
treaties ; but a stronger reason than any one could have 
suspected impelled her to do so, and she never for one 
instant wavered in her determination. 

Monday came with terrible swiftness it appeared to 
Eva, and on the following day Mrs. Smith was to leave 
Lavender Rectory. In the spacious spare room her 
trunks stood packed and labelled; and the brougham 
had been ordered to take her to the station at ten 
o’clock next morning. 

Poor Eva regarded * these preparations very mourn- 
fully ; and when Mrs. Smith felt the child’s blue eyes 
following her wistfully about, her own spirit quailed. 
It was with difficulty that she kept up a calm and cheer- 
ful appearance. 

Then came Tuesday, the day of parting, and Mrs. 
Smith was bidding Mr. Herbert and Eva good-bye in 
the hall while old Philip and the housemaid carried her 


GOOD-BYE! 163 

luggage downstairs, and the jealous Mollie looked on 
with great satisfaction from the landing above. 

“ You will come back for Christmas?” Eva implored, 
clinging to her friend with tearful eyes. “ O darling 
Mrs. Smith, promise you will ! ” 

Mrs. Smith kissed the child’s sweet face passionately 
and whispered that they would meet again soon, she 
hoped^ and that her pet must write to her often, and be 
very happy and very bright and well, and try — ah, she 
must try not to forget her ! 

She clasped the little figure in her arms for one brief 
moment, and then, gently loosening the clinging childish 
hands, silently wrung Mr. Herbert’s hand, and getting 
into the waiting carriage, was driven away. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


CHIEFLY ABOUT JOHN. 

“ The happiest are those that have large sympathies for others.” — A non. 

I T was exactly a week before Christmas Day, and 
those firmest of firm friends, the ogre and Eva, sat 
on either side of the library fire at The Turrets. 

Eva was bright and bonny again. The only trace left 
of the fever was her close-cropped curly hair, which gave 
her a pretty boyish appearance. She wore her neat little 
Lincoln green habit and velvet jockey cap, for she had 
ridden up to The Turrets; and in her hand was a smart 
hunting-whip of diminutive size, a present from Mrs. 
Smith, with which she was tapping her patent leather 
boot in a reflective manner while she looked thought- 
fully into the fire. 

“ I think Christmas is a beautiful time,” she remarked 
in a tone of deep satisfaction. 

“ How's that ? ” asked the ogre, who loved to draw 
her out,” as he termed it. “ In what does its beauty 
consist — eh ? ” 

In a great many things,” answered Eva gravely. 
First, of course, because it is the birthday of our 
Saviour,” and her tone was very reverent ; “ that’s 

(164) 


CHIEFLY ABOUT JOHN. 


165 

beautiful just of itself And then because it’s a time 
when everybody feels very happy and are all very kind 
and loving to each other. And it’s so nice on Christmas 
Eve,” cried Eva, warming to her subject, “when one 
hangs up one’s stocking and Santa Claus comes while 
everybody’s asleep and stuffs it full of presents, oh, don’t 
you like that ? ” 

“ Charming ! ” murmured the listener. 

“And all the house is trimmed up with holly and 
mistletoe, and there are big plum puddings and turkeys, 
and a great Christmas-tree all lighted up with little 
candles and hung with pretty presents, and a lovely fairy 
doll with a wand on the top.” 

“ Delightful ! And after the plum-pudding — indi- 
gestion.” 

“ And then there’s the carols. Don’t you love to hear 
the carols ? ” 

“ My dear Eva, why don’t you ask me if I like to hear 
the cats on the roof of the house at night?” demanded 
the master of The Turrets in a tone of mild satire. 

“ But carols are pretty, and poor pussies are very dear 
things, but — well they haven’t very pretty voices,” ob- 
jected Eva, casting an apologetic glance at a handsome 
Persian cat that occupied the most comfortable spot on 
the rug before the fire, and lowering her voice that she 
might not offend the feelings of this representative of the 
feline race. 

Captain Ransom laughed. “What shall I give you 
for a present ? ” he asked. “ I must give you a Christ- 
mas present, you know. It’s quite the proper thing to 
make presents at that festive season — eh ? ” 

“ I have made you a present,” Eva informed him. 
“ It’s a very nice present, I think. I want dreffly to tell 
you what it is, but I mustn’t, ’cos it’s a secret. I don’t 


i66 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


like secrets,” she added, with a little sigh. “ They’re so 
tiresome, aren’t they, ogre dear ? ” 

“Very tiresome,” he assented. ‘‘Well, and what shall 
I give you, little one ? ” 

“Your highness dear, I don’t think I want anything 
now, you’ve given me such a lot of things,” said Eva. 
“ And papa has given me a great many, too. Do you 
know papa’s coming to fetch me home this evening? 
He’s coming ’cos he wants to be introduced to you. Do 
you think you will be well enough to see him ? ” she 
asked anxiously. 

— The master of The Turrets shook his head very de- 
cidedly. 

“ I can’t see any one to-day,” he said quickly ; “ I feel 
far too poorly.’* 

“ I am so sorry,” Eva exclaimed ; “ I wanted to intro- 
duce papa to you ever so much.” 

“ Ah, I hope I shall have the pleasure of meeting your 
father some other time, when I feel stronger,” said 
Captain Ransom hurriedly. 

“ I am sure' you will love him,” said Eva. “ He’s such 
a darling.” 

“ What’s become of Mrs. Smith ? ” asked the master 
of The Turrets. “ Have you forgotten her yet — eh ? ” 

“ Oh no ! ” cried the little girl indignantly. “ She is 
coming to spend Christmas with us,” she added joy- 
fully. 

“ Indeed ! ” exclaimed Captain Ransom in a tone of 
surprise. “ And when did you hear from her ? ” 

“ We haven’t heard yet,” said Eva. “ But grandfather’s 
written a letter to ask her, and I put it in the post myself, 
so it should go quite safe.” 

“ Ah ! ” ejaculated her listener. 

“ Why do you say ‘ ah ’ like that ? ” asked Eva with 


CHIEFLY ABOUT JOHH. 


167 


quick anxiety. “ Don’t you think Mrs. Smith will come ? 
don’t you, your highness ? ” 

“ Are you very anxious for her to come ? ” he asked 
in a singular tone, and looking searchingly at the child’s 
eager face. 

Eva’s eyes filled with tears. “ It won’t be a happy 
Christmas without Mrs. Smith,” she said. “ You see I 
love her so much. P’r’aps it is because I haven’t got any 
mother,” she added thoughtfully. “ And she’s so kind 
and sweet — just like, I think, a mother must be. Don’t 
you think that must be it, your highness ? ” 

He turned away his face in silence. 

“ I wish Mrs. Smith was my own mother,” said Eva 
wistfully. “ My own mother, to stay with me always and 
never go away any more.” 

The master of The Turrets did not speak for a 
moment, and when he did it was on a totally different 
subject. 

“ I say, how is Dickie, Eva — quite well again ? I’ve 
not seen the young scamp for a long time.” 

“ Dickie is ever so much betterer, thank you. He has 
took a lot of stuff called liver oil, and it has made him 
quite fat,” Eva replied cheerfully. “ Did you know he 
doesn’t work in the garden now, but in the house, instead. 
He wears a blue suit with silver buttons, and is called a 
page. He looks very nice and smart, almost as smart as 
Davy looks in his soldier’s suit.” 

At this instant their conversation was interrupted by 
the entrance of a footman with a card on a salver, which 
he handed to his master, saying — 

Captain Herbert hopes you will see him, sir.” 

“ Did you tell Captain Herbert that my health does 
not permit me to receive visitors ? ” demanded the master 
of The Turrets sharply; and the furious glance that he 


i68 THE LITTLE L4L>Y OF LAVENDER. 

cast at the unfortunate footman was sufficient to crush 
that functionary, and certainly succeeded in filling him 
with terror. 

“ I — I did mention as how — ” he stammered feebly. 
“ I didn’t know ” 

“ Leave the room, ass,'' roared the invalid in his most 
furious tone; and John fled with more speed than 
grace. 

Eva looked rather alarmed. She had never seen the 
master of The Turrets in one of his “ tantrums,” as 
Jackson called them, before. She slipped down from 
her big arm-chair and confronted him with anxious eyes. 

“ Is John naughty ? ” she asked. “ Has he done 
something wrong ? Is that why you are so angry with 
him, your highness ? ” 

“ My dear child, John’s an ass,” replied his highness 
in a somewhat mollified tone. 

“ Poor fellow,” said Eva gently, “ I am sure he doesn’t 
want to be. He can’t help it, ogre dear. I’m certain he 
wouldn’t be an ass if he could help it,” she added with 
grave conviction. 

The ogre laughed. “You’re the funniest of little 
mortals,” he told her in a quite good-humored tone. 

“ Poor John,” said Eva wistfully. “ I am afraid he’s 
feeling very bad. I know how bad it makes one feel 
when people that one loves are angry with one.” 

“ My dear child, do not imagine for an instant that 
John’s feelings are hurt. It would take a great deal to 
penetrate the fellow’s tough hide.” 

“Do you think he would hide? Was he so fright- 
ened as that ? ” asked Eva, with dilating eyes. “ Oh, 
poor thing ! ” 

Captain Ransom began to laugh again. “John’s all 
right,” he said. “ You needn’t trouble your little head 


CHIEFLY ABOUT JOHN. 169 

about him. And now I suppose you must go. It won’t 
do to keep your father waiting — eh ? ” 

Eva wished him good-bye rather gravely. She was 
still thinking about the injured footman. When she got 
as far as the library door she turned back and looked 
wistfully at the ogre lying on the big cushioned sofa by 
the fire. 

“ Well ? ” he said, smiling at her serious look. 

“ I wanted to ask you a favor,” said Eva, looking ex- 
tremely solemn. 

“ Ask it.” 

“ May I tell John you forgive him ? I’m sure he 
won’t feel nice till you do.” 

The invalid smiled at this strange request. “ My 
dear, you may tell John anything that pleases you,” he 
said. “ I am sure he will feel greatly impressed if you 
tell him that,” he added with a short laugh. 

“ Oh, thank you so much, your highness dear ! ” cried 
Eva joyfully, and ran off in the happiest spirits. 

Captain Herbert was waiting for his little girl in the 
adjoining drawing-room. He was a tall man, with dark 
eyes and hair and a face that had once been very merry, 
but of late years had become grave almost to sternness. 
Eva thought him the handsomest man in the world, and 
admired him greatly. 

Well, little woman,” he said, crossing the room to 
meet her, “ are you ready ? We ought to be starting, 
for it’s a cold evening, and I don’t want you to be out 
late.” 

I’m quite ready, papa dear,” said Eva cheerfully. 
** But where’s John ? I must speak to John before we 
go.” 

“ Who’s John ? ” asked Captain Herbert. “ I thought 
your friend lived alone here, Eva ; doesn’t he ? ” 


170 THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 

“John is the ogre’s footman, papa dear, and I’ve got a 
most pertickler message for him.” 

At this instant John happened to cross the hall, and 
Eva called to him at once. “ Please come here, John ; 
I’ve got something to say to you.” 

John respectfully complied. He entered the drawing- 
room with the slow and graceful steps that best became 
his office, and stood erect, a tall functionary in all the 
dignity of six-foot-two, powder, and plush. 

Eva regarded him with a kindly glance. She was 
convinced that that embroidered waistcoat held a breath- 
ing heart, and she fancied that she detected an expression 
of carefully-concealed but deep sadness in the tall foot- 
man’s obtuse countenance, which in Captain Herbert’s 
opinion displayed nothing but blank stupidity. 

“John,” she said sweetly, “ his highness forgives you. 
He is not angry with you any more. He did not really 
mean that you were an ass ; it was only that he — he was 
in rather a hurry, you see.” 

“Thank you, miss,” John returned with praiseworthy 
gravity. Then his countenance became suddenly purple, 
and putting his hand up to his mouth he choked and 
coughed as though he would soon choke and cough his 
powdered head from his epauletted shoulders. 

“ Oh dear ! ” cried Eva, looking quite alarmed, “ what 
a dreffly bad cough. You should take a lozenge, John ; 
it would do you good, I’m sure.” 

“ Thank you, miss ; I think I will try one by and by,” 
John managed to gasp out. 

“ Come, Eva dear,” said her father, taking her hand, 
“ we must be going. Are the horses at the door ? ” he 
asked, turning to the footman. 

John with suspicious alacrity said he would go and see. 
When he returned Eva was much relieved to observe 


CHIEFL V ABOUT JOHN. 


171 

that his coughing fit was quite over, and that he had re- 
sumed his usual calm and dignified demeanor. 

“ You should try a mustard poultice,” she said con- 
fidentially, as he assisted her to mount her pony. “ I am 
sure it would cure you. And black-currant tea is very 
good for colds ; it is very nice too if you like sweet 
things. Do you like sweet things, John ? ” 

John made some absolutely incoherent reply, and, 
putting the bridle into the little lady’s hands, swiftly re- 
tired into the hall. 

“ I thought I should ’a busted, and her so grave and 
serious all the time,” he confided afterwards to the cook. 
“And Captain Herbert, he didn’t know which way to 
look to keep from laughin’, and him such a grave, proud 
gent, not a bit like the little ’un, bless her kind heart.” 

“ There ain’t many like herj said the cook. “ So 
sweet and pleasant, with always a kind word for every 
one, and so polite spoken too. ‘ Good-morning, Mrs. 
Cook,’ says she. She always calls me Mrs. Cook.” 

“ She’s got the manners of a real lady,” remarked 
Jackson. “And master’s been a different man since 
she’s come here. He thinks a mighty lot of Miss Eva. 
I never saw him so took with any one — man, woman, or 
child.” 


CHAPTER XIX. 


A GREAT DISAPPOINTMENT. 

Warm little hearts and wise little heads, 
Gentle, and loving, and kind ; 

This is the way to be happy, small friends, 
And that you will very soon find.” 


Mrs. Sale Barker. 



VA anxiously watched for the incoming of every 


J— ' post, eager for the expected letter from Mrs. Smith. 
On the day after the John episode the looked-for letter 
arrived. 

“ Here it is, grandfather dear, come at last,” cried the 
little girl eagerly. They were at breakfast, and she put 
the envelope that was directed in the well-known writing 
on Mr. Herbert’s plate. 

“All in good time, my childie. You’re in a terrible 
hurry, are you not ? ” asked the rector with a little smile, 
as he opened the envelope with a small ivory penknife 
in his neat, methodical way. 

“ Is Mrs. Smith coming — ts she ? ” Eva demanded, 
watching with breathless attention her grandfather’s face 
as he read the letter. 

He looked up at her slowly. “ I am so sorry for you 
to be disappointed, my little girl,” he said gently ; “ but 
you know, Eva, disappointments must come sometimes.” 

Eva’s blue eyes filled with tears. “ Mrs. Smith isn’t 
coming?” she asked in a very low voice. 


(172) 


A GREA T DISAPPOINTMENT. 


73 


What is it, little one ? ” asked Captain Herbert, look- 
ing up from the Times. 

“ Mrs. Smith isn’t coming, papa,” said Eva very 
dolorously. 

Read her letter, Geoffrey,” said Mr. Herbert, passing 
it across the table to his son. ” It seems that she has 
an engagement in Rome directly after Christmas, Eva,” 
he added, turning to the little girl ; “ and she is extremely 
busy in London until then.” 

Captain Herbert had got no farther than the direction 
of Mrs. Smith’s envelope, which he was examining with 
nervous intentness. His grave face turned very pale, and 
his hand trembled. 

What is it ? — aren’t you well, Geoffrey ? ” the rector 
asked in a tone of surprise. 

“This — this is Mrs. Smith’s writing ?” asked Captain 
Herbert slowly. 

“ Certainly. What is wrong with it ? ” 

“ Nothing. I will tell you afterwards,” answered his 
son, with a significant glance at Eva. 

He drew the letter from the envelope and read it 
slowly and attentively, while the rector tried to comfort 
Eva, who was much distressed by the news she had 
received. 

“ I don’t believe Mrs. Smith will never come to see me 
no more, grandfather dear ! ” exclaimed the little girl 
pathetically, albeit ungrammatically. 

“ We must hope that she will,” replied the old clergy- 
man gently. He was very sorry for Eva, and fully 
sympathized with her disappointment. “You musn’t be 
unhappy about it, my dear,” he said. “ Remember you 
have papa now. You must think of him.” 

Eva drew a deep sigh. “ I did want Mrs. Smith so 
much,” she said wistfully. 


174 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


Presently, breakfast being over, she went out into the 
porch to feed the robins and other wild birds that were 
always on the look-out for bread crumbs at that hour. 
Dickie, looking very smart in his new livery, came to 
assist. Snow had fallen during the night, so he brought 
a broom and swept a dry circle on the gravel on which 
to put the birds’ breakfast. 

“ Christmas will soon be here now. Miss Eva,” he 
remarked cheerfully. 

‘‘ Isn’t it sad, Dickie ? ” said the little girl. “ Mrs. 
Smith can’t come to stay with me for Christmas. She’s 
too busy.” 

“ Well, I never ! ” ejaculated Dickie. “ But I wouldn’t 
mind about it, Miss Eva, if I was you,” he added quickly, 
as he saw the tears in his little lady’s gentle blue eyes. 
“I’d never mind about it. You’ve got your papa and 
many as loves you to be with at Christmas without any 
strange ladies a-comin’.” 

“ Mrs. Smith isn’t a strange lady, Dickie,” cried Eva 
indignantly. 

“ Very well, missy,” said Dickie meekly. 

The birds came down in flocks — sparrows and chaf- 
finches and goldfinches, and a large family party of 
robins and some pretty little blue-tits. 

“ Dear little fluffy things,” said Eva, watching them. 
“ Aren’t they pets, Dickie ? ” 

“ Jolly, Miss Eva. There, did you see that ? two of 
them robin redbreasties was a-fightin’ for a crumb. What 
a lark ! ” 

Eva did not at all approve of this boyish speech. 

“ I don’t like to see them fight ; it’s unkind,” she said 
reproachfully. 

“ La, they likes it, missy,” Dickie assured her, in per- 
fectly good faith. 


A GREAT DISAPPOINTMENT. 175 

But Eva shook her head. “ Tm sure they can’t,” she 
said ; “ not really. I don’t think you’ve learned natural 
history, Dickie. I’ve learned it ; grandfather taughted 
me. I’ll teach you one day, if you like.” 

“ Thank you. Miss Eva,” replied Dickie, looking 
much impressed. 

When Eva went back into the dining-room she found 
the rector and Captain Herbert standing by the fire 
talking very earnestly. 

“ Run away for a while, my pet,” said her father, 
turning round. “We are very busy just now. I shall 
be ready to go for a ride with you in half an hour, and 
you might tell Dickie to order the horses.” 

“Very well, papa dear,” said Eva sweetly. “Come, 
Julia, we will go and have a good game of ball in the 
nursery.” 

“ She is always happy and contented,” remarked the 
rector, as the little girl ran out of the room, followed by 
her ugly but faithful friend the white bulldog. 

“ She has the sweetest disposition in the world,” Eva’s 
father said very earnestly. “ From whom she can have 
inherited it heaven only knows,’^ he added in a bitter 
tone ; “ certainly not from her mother or father.” 

Eva and Julia finished their game of ball and sat 
down to rest in the broad window-seat of the nursery ; 
and Eva, looking out, saw the groom coming round 
from the stables with the horses, Captain Herbert’s neat 
polo pony Midge and her own little steed Tommy. 

Eva ran off to ask Mollie to put on her riding-habit. 
She very much enjoyed her rides with her father, look- 
ing forward to them as a great treat, and Captain Herbert 
was not a little proud of the capital little horsewoman 
who sat her pony so fearlessly and gracefully, and could 


176 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


jump anything that was possible for Tommy to take. 
When Eva was dressed for her ride she went back and 
waited in the window, watching the ponies as the groom 
led them briskly up and down the snowy drive, their 
warm bodies steaming in the cold, frosty air. 

Eva was wondering why her father did not call her, 
when he came hurriedly into the nursery. 

“ Eva darling,” he said, “ I find I shan’t be able to ride 
with you to-day. I have some important business which 
I’m obliged to attend to this morning. I am very sorry, 
dear, but it can’t be helped, you see. Green will go out 
with you. Midge must be exercised, and besides I don’t 
like you riding alone in this slippery weather.” 

Eva looked disappointed. 

” I wish you could come, papa dear,” she said. ‘‘ It’s 
so nice riding together, isn’t it ? and I wanted to show 
you Pixham ferry.” 

” We must go there another day. Where will you 
ride to, little one ? ” 

” Well I think I’ll go to see the ogre,” said Eva, after 
a moment’s thought. “ I’ve got several things I want to 
discuss with him,” she added in the serious, old- 
fashioned way that made her such a quaint little person. 

” I had rather you went to The Turrets this after- 
noon,” said her father quietly. 

Eva was easily contented. “Very well, papa dear,” 
she said cheerfully. “ Then I’ll go and see Mrs. Green- 
away this morning instead. I can take her some eggs. 
Billy laid a most buful egg this morning. Do you know 
Billy, papa dear? He’s my hen, and such a nice indus- 
trious bird.” 

“ Ah ! I must really make his acquaintance,” said Cap- 
tain Herbert, smiling. “ But I’ve not time to-day, Eva. 
Good-bye^ darling. Take care of yourself, and don’t; 


A GREAT DISAPPOINTMENT. 


177 


allow that little scamp Tommy too much galloping to- 
day. It’s not safe, with the roads in this slippery condi- 
tion.” 

So Eva went for her ride without her father after all. 

It was a cold but bright morning; the sky was clear 
blue, and the dark green leaves and shining red berries 
of the holly trees glistened in the sun, while underfoot 
the soft white snow glittered like the pounded glass on a 
Christmas card. 

“ Gee up. Tommy dear,” said Eva, gently patting the 
silky neck of her little steed, and Tommy “ gee’d up ” 
with a will. He was as fresh as a little wild pony, and 
went like the wind, with flowing mane and tail and gaily 
reared head. Green, following on Midge, could scarcely 
keep pace with him, and poor old Julia, who tore along at 
frantic speed in her anxiety to keep up with her little 
mistress, arrived home almost exhausted. 

Eva gave Julia a mutton cutlet for her lunch, and sur- 
veyed her pet with much anxiety. 

“ I’m afraid Julia’s very delicate,” she remarked to 
Dickie. “ I think I will ask Mollie to give her some of 
the quinine wine Dr. Pinchin sent me when I was ill. I 
am sure it would do her good, poor dear thing.” 

I guess it’d get into her ’ead. Miss Eva,” responded 
Diqkie, while a broad grin illumined his befreckled little 
countenance. 

“ Get into her head ! ” Eva repeated in a puzzled tone. 

“ I mean as it might give her the ’eadache,” Dickie 
hastened to explain. 

‘H’ll ask grandfather,” said Eva, as, leaving Julia to 
the uninterrupted enjoyment of her mutton chop, she 
skipped back into the dining-room. 

Mr. Herbert, when appealed to, said he thought Julia 

was better without quinine. 

12 


178 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


Eva was surprised that her father did not appear at 
the luncheon table, but the rector explained that he had 
gone out for a long walk, and might not be in for some 
time. Towards the end of the meal, however, the little 
girl caught sight of Captain Herbert’s tall figure striding 
past the low windows of the dining-room, and slipping 
down from her chair she ran out to meet him. 

Captain Herbert was stamping the snow from his high 
boots on the hall mat ; he looked pale and tired, and like 
a person who has been for a long and wearisome tramp. 

“ Run in, darling,” he called out to Eva. “ I’m all 
over snow and not fit to come near you. I’ve been for a 
long walk on the downs, and have got into a fine mess. 
I should say the snow is three feet deep in parts. I must 
go upstairs and change my things, so don’t wait for me.” 

Lunch was over when he came into the dining-room, 
and he would not take any, but sat down by the fire and 
drew Eva up on his knee. 

How cold your hands are, papa dear,” said the lit- 
tle girl, patting them gently. “ And you look so tired,” 
she added, glancing up anxiously at his pale, grave 
face. “ Are you very tired ? Does your head ache ? ” 

“ No ; I’m not going to ask you to nurse me yet, 
Eva,” he answered with a slight smile. 

“If you were ill I should just write and ask Mrs. 
Smith to come,” said Eva promptly. “ Mrs. Smith’s a 
buful nurse; she’s so clever, and so kind and loving. 
You can’t think how kind she was to me when I had the 
fever. Wasn’t she kind, grandfather dear ? ” 

The rector glanced up from his newspaper. 

“ Yes, my dear, she was devotedly kind,” he said 
quietly. 

“ I wish she could come for Christmas,” said Eva with 
wistful little sigh. “ I’m ever so ’spointed she can’t 


A GREA T D ISA EE OINTMENT. 


179 


come. Papa dear ! ” she exclaimed, as though struck 
by a bright idea ; “ couldn’t you go to London and fetch 
her ? I ’spec’ she’d come then ; she’d not like to say no 
when you had gone all that way to ask her, you see.” 

Her father made no reply to this suggestion, and Eva, 
looking up at him inquiringly, saw that his face was very 
pale and sad, while in the dark eyes gazing thoughtfully 
into the caverns of the glowing fire there was an expres- 
sion of pain that appealed to her tender heart. 

“ Aren’t you happy, papa dear ? ” she asked wistfully. 

Have I done something to vex you ? Is that it ? ” 

“ No indeed, dear child,” he answered, gently stroking 
the little hand that lay in his. ” On the contrary, you 
are my comforter, Eva. There are troubles, dear, that 
little children cannot understand, and it is such a one 
that makes me look serious to-day.” 

“ Is it a bad trouble ? ” the little girl asked anxiously. 

“ Yes, a very bad trouble to me.” 

I will ask God to take it away,” said Eva in her 
simple, earnest way. “ God can do everything, you 
know, and he always listens to our prayers.” 

Her father bent his head and kissed the sweet, earnest 
face raised to his. 

“ Yes, pray that the trouble may be taken from us, 
little one,” he said in a low, tremulous voice. “ Or, better 
still, that we may learn to bear it as we should.” 

Then he gently lifted her from his knee, and went out 
of the room. 

“Are you going to see your friend at The Turrets 
this afternoon, Eva ? ” the rector asked, looking up from 
the Standard. 

“ Yes, I should like to if you don’t want me, grand- 
father dear. I think I’ll go and order Tommy now, 
shall I?” 


l8o THE LITTLE LAD V OF LA VENDER. 

“ Do, my dear. And don’t be out after dusk. It is a 
lonely road over the downs, and very rough riding.” 

“ Tommy is as sure-footed as a little mountain goat,” 
said Eva confidently. “Papa said so, and I’m sure he 
could go anywhere that a goat could. But I will come 
home early, grandfather dear, so don’t be nervous,” she 
added in a reassuring tone, as she stood on tiptoe to kiss 
him good-bye. 

Eva ran off, with Julia at her heels as usual; and Mr. 
Herbert, laying aside his newspaper, went upstairs in 
search of his son. 

Father and son had much to discuss together, and a 
great deal to cause them anxiety and sorrow. 

As Eva’s father had told her, there are troubles that 
little children cannot understand ; but they may often 
help the grown-up people to bear them by their loving 
words and deeds, and the youngest child is not too 
young for this. The mere touch of a baby hand has 
brought comfort with it before now. 

The trouble that was distressing Captain Herbert was 
very nearly connected with Eva herself, and concerned 
her deeply. But of this the little girl knew nothing, and 
it was best that she should not. 

Childhood should be the season of innocent happiness 
and blessed ignorance. Care, and that knowledge which 
life must bring, will cloud the smooth brow and hush 
the merry laugh all too soon. So, in the sweet spring- 
tide of life and of hope, when the young heart is glad 
with the joyous gladness that specially belongs to youth 
and is its happy heritage, let us shelter the budding plant 
from the wind of adversity as best we may, remembering 
that the sunny blossoms of faith and happiness, once 
scattered on the ground, can never bloom again. That 
is, on earth, for in the garden of Paradise who knows ? 


CHAPTER XX. 


LOST IN THE SNOW. 

“ Out of the bosom of the air, 

Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, 
Over the woodlands brown and bare. 

Over the harvest fields forsaken. 

Silent, and soft, and slow. 

Descends the snow.” — Longfellow. 


OWARDS the wane of the afternoon snow began 



J- to fall again. It was that very fine, powdery 
snow that is generally a sign of a heavy fall, and which 
very quickly covers the ground, and it came down 
evenly and noiselessly like a soft white mantle that 
would clothe the bare and leafless winter world. 

The rector had been visiting a sick parishioner, and 
when he came out of the little cottage was surprised at 
the change in the weather. 

“Ah,” said the woman who opened the door for him, 
“ snaw again, and we’ll have a deep fall, your reverence. 
Look at the clouds, they’re heavy with it, and when 
snaw lies as it’s laid the last day or two ’tis a sure sign 
there’s more to come. My lad wot works at the wood- 
cuttin’ says as the snaw’s four an’ five foot deep upon 
the downs. Eh, but it’s real dangerous for folk wot 
have to be about in it,” she added feelingly. 


(i8i) 


I82 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


Mr. Herbert thought anxiously of Eva as he walked 
briskly homewards through the snowy, slippery lanes, 
making what speed he could. He trusted that the child 
had reached home safely long before, and he tried to 
reassure his mind by telling himself that both she and 
her little pony knew the way well ; but nevertheless he 
felt nervous and fidgety. He hastened his steps, and 
hurrying on was soon walking down the carefully-swept 
drive of the Rectory grounds. 

The windows of the old house that nestled cosily 
among the tall, dark pine trees were full of cheerful 
light, and shone out like beacons into the dim gray fog 
of the cold outside world ; and — yes, there was a light 
in the nursery casement, a broad, reassuring light. The 
rector drew a sigh of relief. 

The hall door opened when he turned the handle. 
There was no need for bolts and bars in the quiet out- 
of-the-world village of Lavender. 

A maid was carrying the tea-tray into the drawing- 
room as the rector entered the hall, and glancing 
through the open doorway Mr. Herbert saw his son 
seated at a small table, reading by the light of a red- 
shaded lamp that cast a pretty, rosy glow on the com- 
fortable, homely room. 

Such a night, Geoffrey ! ” he called out cheerily as 
he passed upstairs. I must go and get off my wet 
things. I’m in quite as much of a mess as you were 
this morning.” 

Going along the corridor he pushed open the nursery 
door, which stood ajar, and looked in to speak to his 
little granddaughter. Mollie sat at the table sewing, 
and Julia was stretched out on the rug before the fire 
basking in the warmth, but there was no sign of Eva. 

“Where’s Miss Evangeline?” the rector demanded 


LOST IN THE SmW. 183 

quickly, and suddenly all the fear and dread revived in 
his heart. 

“ She is with Captain Herbert, sir,” said Mollie, look- 
ing up in some surprise at his tone. 

“ When did she come home — how long ago ? ” he 
asked, still speaking with the nervous haste that was so 
unusual to him. 

” That I couldn’t tell you, sir,” replied Mollie ; “ for she 
hasn’t been up to take off her habit yet. She don’t gen- 
erally come up till after tea,” added the girl ; then, struck 
by the expression of the rector’s face, she cried out sud- 
denly, “ Law, sir, wot’s wrong? whatever has happened ? ” 

Mr. Herbert’s face was very pale. Miss Eva'has not 
come in,” he said ; “ you are mistaken. Ah ! I fear she is 
out in this snowstorm.” 

He hurried downstairs, followed by Mollie, whose 
usually rosy countenance had become white with fear. 
Perhaps Eva had come in even while he had been up- 
stairs ! A blessed hope that was too soon put to flight. 

“ Eva ! ” cried Captain Herbert, in answer to the rec- 
tor’s tremulous question ; “ no, she is not with me. I 
thought she was upstairs in the nursery. Out on such a 
night ! Preposterous ! ” he exclaimed, with an indignant 
glance at poor Mollie, who was certainly not to blame; 
but when people are alarmed or anxious they seem to 
find a relief in turning on some one, however blameless. 

“ She has ridden to The Turrets,” explained the rector 
anxiously. “ If the snowstorm commenced before she 
started for home Captain Ransom would be sure to keep 
her,” he added more hopefully. ” That is probably what 
has occurred.” 

“ I will go to The Turrets at once,” said his son, and 
ringing the bell sharply he told Dickie to order his horse 
immediately. “ Tell Green I will have Midge,” he said 


i 84 the little LADY OF LAVENDER. 

to the boy. ‘‘ He is the most sure-footed,” he added, 
turning to the rector. “ And I expect it will be rough 
riding to-night ; great heavens, to think of that mere 
baby out alone on such a night ! ” 

“ I trust that she is safely at The Turrets,” said the rec- 
tor, and drawing aside the curtain he looked anxiously 
out of the window, as though hoping to see Tommy and 
his little rider coming down the dark and snow-covered 
drive. But in a moment he turned back into the room 
with a disappointed sigh. 

“You know the shortest way to The Turrets, 
Geoffrey ? ” 

“ Yes, father, and I pray heaven I may find her there.” 

** I shall pray also, my son.” That was the parting 
between the two, and then Captain Herbert rode out into 
the dark, wild winter’s night, and the rector went back 
into the house with a very heavy heart. 

At the drawing-room door Mr. Herbert was confronted 
by Dickie. The boy’s face was puckered up anxiously, 
and the large dark eyes which he raised to his master’s 
face were full of tears. 

“ Please, sir, be Miss Eva lost ? ” he faltered. 

“ We must hope for the best, Dickie,” said the rector, 
laying his hand kindly on the lad’s shoulder. “ And you 
know that God can take care of us wherever we are — we 
are always in his hand.” 

Mollie’s a-cryin’ and howlin’ in the kitchen, and she 
do say as Miss Eva’s lost in the snow and will die o’ the 
cold,” said Dickie with a dismal sniff 

The rector could scarcely repress a shudder. “ She is 
in God’s hands,” he repeated. 

A curious expression flitted across the mobile counte- 
nance of Dickie, and without another word he went 
quickly out of the room. 


LOST IN THE SNOW. 


185 


His sudden exit rather astonished the rector, but his 
anxious mind had no room for thoughts of Dickie just 
then. 

He sat down to await his son’s return as best he 
might, praying earnestly that the child who was dear to 
so many hearts might be kept safe and free from harm, 
and even as he prayed a feeling of peace seemed to steal 
into his troubled soul. 

Captain Ransom was lying on his couch by the library 
fire reading when John entered the room saying — 

“ Captain Herbert has called, if you please, sir. He 
wishes to know if Miss Herbert is here.” 

“ Well, I suppose you know as well as I do that she is 
noty seeing she left here an hour ago,” replied the master 
of The Turrets testily. 

“ If you please, sir. Captain Herbert says as how Miss 
Herbert rode up here this afternoon and has not returned 
to the Rectory,” said John in a tone of much concern. 

“ What ! ” exclaimed his master, out alone on a night 
like this I Well, certainly one would imagine that they 
could take better care of the child — fools ! dolts ! ” he 
cried in his passionate, uncontrolled way. “ They’ve no 
right to have the charge of her if they can’t manage 
better. Show Captain Herbert in here, and be quick 
about it, you stupid, staring donkey,” he added, turning 
furiously on the footman. 

John retreated speedily. He needed no second 
bidding. 

The rector, keeping his anxious vigil as patiently as 
he might, hurried to the door at the first sound of horse’s 
hoofs, and as he reached it his son galloped up. Midge 
was in a wretched state ; her little active body was 


i86 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


steaming all over and her glossy coat wringing wet, 
while she was absolutely covered with snow and mud. 
Her rider was in scarcely better plight, and his face was 
pale and anxious as he quickly asked — 

“ Is she here ? ” 

No. Is she not at The Turrets ? ” 

But there was no need for either question, and there 
was agony in the faces of both men as for an instant 
they gazed in silence at each other. 

Then Captain Herbert said quickly, “ We must 
organize a search party — Green, and the helper, and old 
Philip, and any other man who knows these parts. Ran- 
som has already sent out his men. He is in a terrible 
state, and it’s really frightful to hear him talk. He is so 
furious that he is helpless and unable to do anything. 
Poor fellow, when one remembers the splendid officer he 
used to be ! ” and in the midst of his great anxiety he 
sighed compassionately for the man who, whether he 
knew it or not, had always been his bitterest and most 
revengeful enemy. 

'‘We must start out at once,” the rector said. “ Yes, 
Geoffrey, indeed I must come. I am an old man, but 
I am strong still, and I know this country well. I could 
not rest here thinking of my poor little darling out in 
this terrible night,” he added tremulously. 

In less than ten minutes’ time the search party set out 
— the rector and Captain Herbert, old Philip, Green, and 
another groom. They carried lanterns, and took with 
them a spade and pickaxe in case they should be re- 
quired. And so, hoping for the best and fearing the 
worst, they started on their search. 


CHAPTER XXL 


BABES IN THE WOOD. 


“ So the Babes wandered on hand in hand through the dark forest, 
plucking the wild flowers and berries as they went. . . . Presently, tired 
out, they lay down under a great elm tree to rest, and the little robins 
came and covered the sleeping children with fallen leaves,” 


Nursery Fairy Tales. 



HEN Dickie surprised the rector by his abrupt 


exit from the drawing-room he rushed out of 


the room because a sudden and bright idea had seized 
his youthful mind. 

Full of this wonderful idea, which was gradually form- 
ing itself into a plan in his active brain, he ran quickly 
upstairs to the little room in the roof where he slept. 
As he was about to enter it the housemaid happened to 
pass by. 

“What are you in such a hurry about?” she asked 
sharply ; for the maid-servants Avere not always very 
amiable to the youthful Dickie, who “ broke more than 
he was worth,” they said, candidly telling the boy him- 
self so. 

“ Fm a-goin’ to bed,” replied Dickie promptly. “ Fm 
tired.” 

He went into his little room and ^slammed the door 
impolitely in the face of Mary Ann. Then, as he heard 


(187) 


i88 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


the girl’s retreating footsteps on the stairs, he pulled 
down from its peg on the wall his thick greatcoat that 
the rector had given him, and quickly wriggled his arms 
into the sleeves. He then proceeded to put on his stout- 
est boots and leggings, and finally completed his toilet 
by tying under his chin a far from handsome but exceed- 
ingly comfortable rabbit-skin cap that had been his old 
granny’s present to him on his birthday. 

“ There,” said Dickie, surveying himself with satisfac- 
tion in the small glass that hung over his chimney-piece, 
“ I guess little Jack Frost will have a business to get 
through all this here, that I do.” 

He went to the door, and, opening it noiselessly with 
extreme care, looked out cautiously. No one was about, 
and slipping out he crept very softly downstairs, past 
the drawing-room door that stood ajar, through the 
cosy, lighted hall, and out into the darkness and snow 
beyond. 

Dickie was but a youngster, “not turned ten,” as 
Granny Harriss would have told you, and the night 
looked very dark — very dark indeed. The wind too 
was very high and wild, sweeping round the old house 
with weird, shrill meanings, and singing dreary, sad- 
toned songs among the chimneys and under the eaves. 
Snow fell fast and thick all the time, and the wind catch- 
ing it in her wild embrace flung a great shower of icy 
drops into Dickie’s face as though in mocking derision 
of the boy. 

Dickie shrank back for an instant, his heart failing 
him. Then, with a sudden, long-drawn breath, which 
was the only outward sign of the fear and love that 
struggled together in his little breast, he stepped out 
from the shadow of the house and ran forward up the 
dark and slippery drive. For Dickie had an important 


BABES IN THE WOOD. 


189 


mission to carry out — a mission that no darkness, no 
fear of bogies and such terrible folk, no snow and wind, 
must interfere with. 

It was love that gave courage to his shrinking little 
- heart, and caused his feet to speed over the slippery, 
snowbound way, and led him through the darkness — 
love for little Miss Eva, who had been so kind and good 
to him and granny, and the big soldier brother Davy, 
and little Joe. 

How could he, Dickie, that she’d done so much for, 
rest quiet in the house when little Miss Eva was out in 
the snow and storm, dying from the cold perhaps ? — but 
ah, that thought was too terrible ! 

A few days previously Eva had lent Dickie a story- 
book which told of the monks of St. Bernard, and of 
their good dogs. Dickie had read with deep interest 
how these dogs seek out people lost in the snow, and, 
by their courage and patience, often thus rescue unfor- 
tunate travellers from a miserable death. The tale had 
made a deep impression upon the intelligent mind of the 
little fellow, and he had been full of admiration for the 
brave dogs. 

When the rector told him that Miss Eva was lost — 
lost in the snow — the boy remembered the story he had 
read, and at once formed a resolve. 

“ I guess what a dog could do, a boy oughter be able 
to,” he simply reasoned with himself “A boy ain’t 
much good if he isn’t as brave and as useful as a dog. 
Well, I ain’t goin’ to sit dbwn and be beat by a old dog 
without a try, anyway.” 

The drive was dark — dreadfully dark; and what queer 
shadows the trees did cast, to be sure! — terribly like 
witches and warlocks and all such alarming evil appari- 
tions of fairy lore — so it seemed to Dickie, 


190 


THE LITTLE^LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


“ But I ain’t goin’ to be beat by a dog,” he muttered 
to himself, as he ran along through the snow, sometimes 
slipping and stumbling, sometimes falling on his hands 
and knees on the slippery ground, but always pushing 
on again directly he righted himself 

How high and queer the hedges appeared, with a line 
of snow on the top that looked for all the world like a 
row of mischievous white elves watching him ; and 
wasn’t the snow deep, that’s all ! right up to Dickie’s 
knees in many parts. 

“ I’ll go on ’till it’s up to my neck,” said the boy, 
setting his teeth. He was not without determination, 
this little lad ; at least, when he thought of the tiny lady 
who had been so good and kind to him. 

“ Mollie said she’d be froze to death,” he thought. 

O, poor little Miss Eva ! surely the great God won’t 
let that dreadful thing happen to her. His reverence 
says as how he always takes care o’ the children, and 
Miss Eva’s such a good little lady ! ” 

He stumbled hurriedly on, looking about him anx- 
iously as he went, peeping into the darkness of the 
hedges, and stopping at short intervals to call Miss 
Eva, Miss Eva,” in his shrill boyish voice; but a faint, 
mocking echo was the only answer to his cry. 

His hands became intensely painful from the cold, and 
his feet were so numbed that he began to find a difficulty 
in running. He would not have thought of this, or have 
cared about it, had it not impeded his progress ; but he be- 
gan to be afraid that he should get cramped and be unable 
to go on with his search. This thought was dreadful to him. 

He stopped for a minute, stamping his feet to warm 
them, and breathing hard on his red little hands. Then 
he rushed on again, slipping, stumbling, falling, but 
still going forward persistently. 


BABES IN THE WOOD. 


19I 

Now he was ascending the downs by the winding lane 
which led almost to the walls of The Turrets, grounds. 
He knew that Eva always rode that way, and he peered 
into the hedges and called to her constantly, “ Miss Eva, 
Miss Eva ; ain’t you here, missy ? ” as he went. But no 
welcome answer fell upon his strained ears, and a great 
fear arose in the boy’s heart. 

“ P’r’aps she’s dead,” he thought ; “ froze to death, as 
Mollie said. Oh, poor poor little Miss Eva ! ” and a great 
sob broke the intense and awesome stillness that sur- 
rounded him. 

But Dickie forced back his tears full manfully. “ I 
ain’t' a-goin’ to cr)%” he told himself sturdily. “Them 
St. Bernard dogs don’t cry, they just snufts about and 
finds the people wot’s lost. A boy oughter be as good 
as a dog anyhow, that he ought.” 

At this instant his reflections were brought to a sudden 
termination ; for, catching his foot in a piece of loose 
wood or stone, he tripped up and was thrown violently 
forward into the snow-filled ditch that skirted the lane. 

Heels over head went poor Dickie, turning a complete 
somersault, and then he landed on his hands and knees 
at the bottom of the ditch, perfectly submerged in three 
feet deep of soft, wet snow. 

How he got out he scarcely knew, but he managed to 
get out somehow, by a desperate, scrambling process, 
that tore his clothes and bruised his unfortunate, be- 
numbed little body and cut his half-frozen hands. And 
there he was at last, up in the lane again, very knocked 
about, wringing wet, and a good deal frightened ; while, 
covered with snow from head to foot, he looked not un- 
like those white, fur-clad dollies called after a small hero 
of nursery rhyme. Baby Bunting, that are so popular 
with children now, 


192 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


Poor Dickie ! his nine-years-old feelings being quite 
too much for him at that moment, he rubbed his 
knuckles into his half-blinded eyes and wept copiously. 

“ I wish as I was a St. Bernard dog ! ” he sobbed. 
“ Boys ain’t anythink like as good as St. Bernard dogs 
after all.” 

Suddenly he sprang to his feet with an exclamation of 
joy ; for over the snow came a familiar sound — a sound 
that brought the color to his face and the light to his 
eyes — the gentle whinnying of a pony. 

If that ain’t our Tommy’s whinnyin’ I’m ajiggered ! ” 
cried Dickie. “ Bless that there pony, won’t I ’ug ’im 
for that noise when I gets to ’im.” 

He started at a run along the lane or road that had 
been made through the wood. The way was as dark as 
pitch and as slippery as glass, and on either side loomed 
the tall, dark pine trees like huge sentinels. But what 
cared Dickie for these things now Miss Eva was near ! 
All he thought of was how quickly he could get to her. 

“ Miss Eva, Miss Eva,” he called eagerly as he ran ; 
and over the snow came an answering call, “ Dickie, 
Dickie ! ” 

“ I’m a-comin’. Miss Eva — I’m nigh you now, missy,” 
shouted the little lad in a joyous tone. 

A minute later he fell on his knees, exhausted but 
thankful, at the little girl’s feet, and Tommy’s soft, black 
nose was thrust inquiringly into his face. 

“ Miss Eva, you’re safe — you’re safe ! ” cried Dickie, 
half laughing and half crying, as he caressed the pony 
and looked up with tearful but happy eyes at his little 
mistress. 

Yes, Dickie, God’s been keeping me safe,” answered 
Eva rather tremulously. “ But I lost my way, and it 
was rather frightening. I didn’t mind though when I’d 


BABES IN THE WOOD. 


193 


thinked fora little while, and remembered how God takes 
care of us always,” she added earnestly ; then, ” Poor 
Dickie, how tired you look ! Were you very frightened ? 
Have you runned all the way to find me ? ” 

“ Why, you see. Miss Eva, I remembered about them 
St. Bernard dogs, and I thought as how a boy didn’t 
ought to be beat by a dog,” was Dickie’s brief explana- 
tion. 

But Eva understood. “ Dear, brave Dickie,” she said, 
laying her little hand gently on his wet shoulder. 

“ Bless you, I ain’t brave. Miss Eva,” Dickie answered 
rather shamefacedly, remembering the tears that he had 
shed after falling into, the snowy ditch. 

“ Are grandfather and papa frightened about me, 
Dickie?” Eva asked. “ Do they think I’m lost?” 

“Every one thinks so. Miss Eva, and they’re a-lookin’ 
for you all over the place. It’s no wonder you came to 
lose your way such a dark, snowy night ; it was most I 
could do to get up here, and I tumbled into the ditch 
once,” said Dickie, casting a somewhat dismal glance at 
his soaked garments. “ It was uncommon wet in that 
there ditch — uncommon wet.” 

“ I didn’t think I could get lost on the downs,” Eva 
said ; “ I know all the way so well — you see I come by 
it every day. But suddenly it got so dark, and then the 
snow began to fall, and I couldn’t see in front of me at 
all, and I think the road was very slippery, because poor 
little Tommy kept slipping about; and then he went 
down on his knees, and when I pulled him up he was 
all over snow, and it kept growing darker and darker, 
and so I got off, and Tommy and I have stayed here 
ever since.” 

“ Wasn’t you frightened. Miss Eva ? ” Dickie asked. 

“ I was at first,” said the little girl, “ but not afterwards, 
13 


194 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


when I remembered that God takes care of us every- 
where.” 

Dickie nodded. “ That’s what I was a-thinkin’ of all 
the time as I come here, Miss Eva,” he said. ” But when 
I tumbled into that there ditch I forgot all about it, I was 
so skeered like.” 

” Do you think you can find the way home, Dickie ? 
it’s — it’s rather cold out here, isn’t it ? ” Eva said, after a 
moment. 

” It’s freezin ' said Dickie , ” an’ you must be mortal 
chilly. Miss Eva. D’ye mind havin’ this on, missy? 
’twill keep you a bit warm any way, and it’s quite new 
and tidy.” And before she could stop him he had pulled 
off his thick overcoat and wrapped it round the little 
girl. 

“ O, Dickie, you will feel so cold ! ” cried Eva. 

” No, I won’t. Miss Eva ; boys they don’t feel the cold 
like little ladies like you,” he asserted sturdily. 

“ Shall we try to find our way home ? ” Eva suggested. 

It would be very nice to be in the nice warm house, 
wouldn’t it ? ” she added wistfully. 

“ In course it would,” Dickie agreed eagerly. ‘‘ Let 
me help you up on Tommy, missy, and I’ll lead him 
along. ’Tain’t no fit walkin’ for you to-night.” 

Dickie helped the little lady to mount with eager care. 
What a responsibility was his, thought the little boy — 
the sole charge of Miss Eva! He felt that on him 
depended the child’s safety, and his heart swelled proudly 
at the thought. 

“ It’ll be I as found her,” he said to himself, “ before 
all them grown-up folk.” 

” Do you think you can find the way to the Rectory, 
Dickie ? do you think you can ? ” Eva asked rather 
anxiously, as the boy led Tommy carefully along the 


BABES IN THE WOOD. 


195 


snowy road, peering into the gloom before him, and 
keeping the pony up with difficulty. 

** Well, I don’t know. Miss Eva,” Dickie answered 
doubtfully. It’s main dark,” he remarked to himself 
rather than to her, but the little girl heard him. 

“ Do you think we’re going to be lorsted, Dickie ? ” 
she asked tremulously, like the poor Babes in the Wood 
that I read to you about ? ” 

‘‘ Well, I ’opes not. Miss Eva,” Dickie replied in a not 
very cheerful tone. He was cold, and tired, and bruised, 
poor little fellow, and he was only nine years old 
after all, and certainly the way was very dark and lone- 
some — terribly lonesome. Dickie’s heart began to fail 
him. 

I wonder if the little robins will come and cover us 
up with leaves, like they covered the Babes in the 
Wood,” said Eva. “ O Dickie, I hope they won’t, ’cos 
then no one would ever find us any more.” 

It occurred to Dickie that this would not be of much 
consequence to them if they were dead ; but he wouldn’t 
say such a dismal thing to Eva, so he remarked, in what 
was meant for a cheerful tone — 

“ I guess those were fairy robin redbreasties, missy. 
Common robin redbreasties wouldn’t have the sense for 
to cover little children with leaves.” 

“ P’r’aps not. It’s very dark, isn’t it, Dickie ? ” 

Well, Miss Eva, ’taint by no means light.” 

“ Are you frightened, Dickie ? ” 

“ Boys oughter not to be frightened, missy.” 

Then why does your voice shake so funnily ? ” 

I ’spec’s it’s the cold got to my throat. Miss Eva — 
most like.” 

They went on again in silence. It was pitch dark all 
around them. The snow seemed to become deeper at 


196 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


every step. The wind had sunk, and a great and awe- 
some silence reigned in the wood. 

Suddenly Dickie stopped. “ I think we’d better not try 
to go on, Miss Eva,” he said. “ I ’spec’s Tommy couldn’t 
get no farther. The snow’s near up to the saddle.” 

A sob arose in the boy’s throat, but he gulped it back 
bravely. 

“ Them St. Bernard dawgs don’t cry like babbies,” he 
told himself, “and a boy oughter be better nor a old 
dawg.” 

“ What shall we do, Dickie ? ” asked Eva. “ Shall we 
call and shout as loud as ever we can?” Her voice 
trembled visibly. “ I’m not ’zackly frightened,” she said 
quickly. “ It would be naughty to be frightened when 
we know that God is taking care of us, wouldn’t it? 
But — but it’s so cold and dark, isn’t it? and it’s not very 
nice to be lorsted in a big dark wood when the snow 
nearly covers you up — it makes you feel queer, you 
know.” 

“ It’s 'orridl' was Dickie’s comment, uttered in a most 
heartfelt manner. “ But it’s worstest for you. Miss Eva, 
’cos you’re a little lady, and I’m only a common, rough 
boy wot oughter to be able to be out in the snow and 
not hurt. Wait a minute, missy, and I’ll shout, and 
p’r’aps some one will hear. I ’spec’s they’re all out and 
about searchin’ for you by now, and maybe they’re 
nigh.” 

So Dickie shouted with all the strength of his young 
lungs — shouted and shouted. Echo caught the sound 
in her mocking embrace and threw it right and left all 
over the dark, still wood. It rang through the hush of 
the night and died away in the far distance. But that 
was all the answer, and at last the boy stopped calling, 
breathless and tired. 









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BABES IN THE WOOD. 


197 


“ Tain’t no use, Miss Eva,” he panted. 

“You’re out of breath. Let me try,” said the little 
girl bravely. 

“ I’m all right now. We’ll call together, missy,” cried 
Dickie. “ P’r’aps two of us will make more noise. 
Seems all the folk be deaf to-night.” 

The children’s shouts rang out into the darkness of 
the night and were echoed wildly in the depths of the 
wood beyond, but echo was the only answer that fell 
upon their strained ears. 

“ I can’t call any more,” said Eva. “ My throat hurts 
so when I keep calling. O Dickie, I’m so sleepy — 
I’m sure it’s bedtime.” 

Dickie peered anxiously through the darkness at the 
tired, pale face of the little girl. 

“ I guess you’d better go to sleep for a bit. Miss Eva,” 
he said. “ You might rest your head on Tommy’s neck 
and have quite a good sleep. I’ll stop awake and be on 
the look-out. And most like when you wakes you’ll 
find as some of un have found us. Master and Capting 
Herbert they’ll be sure to search this wood high and low 
and inside and houtside,” he added, speaking far more 
cheerfully and hopefully than jie felt. 

If Eva had taken Dickie’s kindly-meant advice and 
gone to sleep, this story might have ended very 
differently ; for as every one knows it is quite a fatal 
thing to allow yourself to fall asleep when out in the 
snow. It is a treacherous and dreadful sleep from which 
there is usually no awakening. 

Eva and Dickie knew nothing of this, and Dickie’s 
suggestion was most kindly intentioned ; but fortunately 
Eva, who was very unselfish, did not like to leave the boy 
to a lonely vigil ; so by making a great effort she resisted 
the sensation of drowsiness which was so subtly stealing 


THE LITTLE LADY GF LA VENDEE. 


over her. It was well for the little girl that she did 
so. 

The two poor children, and poor Tommy, who felt 
every bit as miserable as they did, huddled together 
under a tall pine tree. They were covered with snow 
and shivering with cold ; and all around them loomed 
impenetrable darkness. They were too tired, and, to tell 
the truth, too hopeless, to call and shout any longer, and 
they were almost too wearied to even talk to each other. 

Dickie bit his lip to keep from crying, and poor little 
Eva’s eyes were full of tears.. 

It must have been about half an hour later that a 
curious, crashing sound, as of breaking branches and 
dry ferns trampled underfoot, sounded in the copse to 
their rear. 

The children knew at once that it was no human foot 
that they heard approaching, and they looked at each 
other with dilated, frightened eyes. 

“ Dickie,” faltered Eva in a low voice, do you think 
there are any bears and lions in this wood ? ” 

“ I — I ’opes not. Miss Eva,” answered Dickie fervently. 

The crashing, breaking sounds had ceased, but instead 
they now heard the soft patter of some four-footed 
creature coming towards them over the snow, and the 
hard, loud panting of a hurrying animal. 

Dickie sprang in front of Eva, ready to be faithful to 
his little charge to the end. 

“ Keep still. Miss Eva,” he whispered hoarsely. 
“ Keep ahind me, missy.” 

Even as he spoke the creature was nearing them. 
Two bright, keen eyes and a long, pointed black nose 
showed through the darkness not half a yard off ; the 
quick, hot breath of the animal fanned Dickie’s cold 
cheek. 


BABES IN THE WOOD. 


199 


The boy kept to his post right valiantly, spreading out 
both his arms to protect Eva, who stood behind him ; 
but his young heart beat like a sledge-hammer into his 
mouth, and all the healthy color deserted his befreckled 
little face. 

‘‘ Keep back, Miss Eva, keep back ! ” he cried hoarsely, 
between his set teeth. ‘‘ ’Tis a wolf! ” 


CHAPTER XXII. 


THE MASTER OF THE.^TURRETS.” 

“ From days laid waste, across disastrous years, 

From hopes cut down, across a world of fears, 

We gaze, with eyes too passionate for tears.” 

Swinburne. 

W HAT a terrible evening that was to the master of 
The Turrets none ever knew, none ever sus- 
pected. How should they ? They could not guess how 
dear the little simple child of the Rectory had become 
to this lonely, invalided man, so dear that all the interest 
that remained to him in life was centred in her. They 
could not tell that Eva was the sole brightness, the one 
beam of sunshine that illumined his dreary, broken ex- 
istence, the one slender cord that brought his hardened 
and embittered heart into touch with human love and 
kindness. 

But so it was ; and when he thought of her, the child 
he loved, who was more to him than even he himself 
had realized before, who, had she been his own, could ' 
not have been more precious ; when he thought of her 
out in the storm and darkness of the night — alone, lost, 
probably in danger — he was almost wild in his helpless 
anger and grief. Oh, if he were only strong and able as 
he used to be, if it were only for this night, for one 
( 200 ) 


THE MASTER OF THE TURRETS^ 


201 


brief hour ! That was his hopeless cry as he lay help- 
lessly on his couch in lonely agony of mind and pain of 
body — one hour of strength, only one hour ! His grief 
was fierce, rebellious, wicked, and it would have shocked 
the good old rector terribly had he heard his wild rav- 
ings. How merciful, how wondrous in his long-suffering 
forbearance is One above, who hears everything, and to 
whom the secrets of all hearts are open ! 

The master of The Turrets had one companion during 
those dreadful hours of waiting and watching and de- 
spairing, of useless murmurings and impotent raving, 
and that companion was Conscience. “ Conscience 
makes cowards of us all,” and of late Captain Ransom’s 
conscience had given him but scant share of rest and 
peace. He had tried to put it off, but always in vain, 
and this evening it was more persistent and troublesome 
than ever. It spoke to him as he lay there, lonely and 
anxious and sick at heart, of a past of hypocrisy and 
treachery and meanness, of wrong done to others who 
had never injured him, of a wrong that he had allowed 
to exist for years when one word of his might and 
would have set it. right. And then it spoke to him of 
atonement and restitution in the present, and to this he 
might have listened had it not been for a thing that lay 
very near to his heart, and which if he followed the 
promptings of conscience he must lose. But suddenly 
there flashed across his mind a dreadful question. What 
if, as punishment for his shrinking, as a just retribution 
for his sin, he were to lose that treasure which was so 
dear to him in another and more terrible way ? The 
thought was horror, and in his despair he cried out, If 
she is saved I will do it ! I will do it, however dear it 
cost me ! ” 

In supreme moments of danger and of sorrow men 


202 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


are apt to make such promises of amendment and restitu- 
tion. Alas for the world ! they do not always fulfil them 
when once more they find themselves safe in the sun- 
shine of prosperity. 

It remained to be seen how the master of The Turrets 
would fulfil his promise. 

Captain Ransom had sent all his men-servants out to 
assist in the search for Eva, and Jackson and John at all 
events were most eager recruits. But indeed all gave 
their services very willingly, for “ little Miss Herbert ” 
was a great favorite with the servants at The Turrets. 
They did not forget the gentle courtesy and ready kind- 
ness which the little girl invariably showed them. Eva 
had something kind and pleasant to say to each and 
every person she met, and the real sympathy which she 
felt with and showed towards all living things, were they 
her fellow-beings or the helpless dumb creatures, won all 
hearts. 

The law of love is a law that carries power wherever 
it may be practised. It possesses more power than 
sceptres and thrones, than monarchies and republics and 
governments ; and yet, powerful though it is, one notices 
in everyday life that it is a law few care to study and even 
fewer fulfil. 

To Captain Ransom the hours of that evening ap- 
peared to crawl by. And, anxiously watching the great 
clock on the marble mantleshelf above him, he thought 
that the hands must remain stationary, so little did they 
seem to move. When a maid-servant announced that 
dinner was ready, and offered to wheel his couch into 
the adjoining dining-room, he sent her away roughly 
and hurriedly. He could not read or write or occupy 


THE MAS TEE OF “ THE TURRETS: 


203 


himself in any way : his mind was in too great a state 
of unrest. He could only lie there helpless and anxious 
and think, think, think. At last the clock struck ten 
with slow and ponderous strokes, and as the last deep 
note rang out into the still room his strained ears caught 
a sound in the courtyard outside. 

It was the sound of men’s heavy footsteps, of men’s 
raised voices. The search party had returned. 

The master of The Turrets clasped his hands together 
in an agony of nervous expectation. His pale face 
quivered and his heart beat wildly. His lips did not 
move ; but if ever a silent prayer went up from an 
anxious human heart it went up from his then. His 
prayer was a very humble, pleading one — “ Lord, have 
mercy upon me a sinner.” And the great God whose 
forbearance is so wonderful, so beyond all poor de- 
scription, did have mercy upon him. 

When Jackson with hurried footsteps and eager face 
entered the library his first words were, “ She’s safe, sir ; 
Miss Eva’s quite safe.” 

The master of The Turrets heard no more. The great 
anxiety and suspense had proved too much of a strain for 
his enfeebled health, and at its sudden removal he fainted. 

But after restoratives and a quiet night’s rest he was 
better, and was able to hear from Jackson a full account 
of the search of the previous evening. He heard how 
they had searched high and low all through the woods, 
and how at last old Neptune, the collie dog that belonged 
to the lodge-keeper of The Turrets, had discovered the 
lost child, and with her Granny Harriss’s little lad, who 
had been the first to set out in the search, and who had 
wrapped the little lady in his own coat and done his 
brave best to keep her from harm. 


204 


THE LITTLE LAD Y OF LA VENDER. 


“ He’s a plucky little chap, sir, that he is,” Jackson 
said heartily. When Neptune ran up to ’em in the 
darkness, his queer, light eyes shining and his long 
tongue hanging out, Dickie he thinks he’s a wolf, and 
he throws himself in front of Miss Eva, ready to defend 
her to the last. ^ Keep back. Miss Eva,’ he says ; ' it’s 
a wolf.’ Poor lad, he did look white. He’s but a child, 
not ten years old.” 

“ He is a capital little fellow, and shall not go unre- 
warded ! ” exclaimed the master of The Turrets warmly. 
“And, Jackson, you have been to the Rectory this 
morning, and Miss Herbert is none the worse for her 
exposure to the cold, eh ? ” he asked anxiously. 

“ I saw Miss Eva, sir. She ran out o’ the breakfast- 
room to speak to me, and she looks as bonnie and 
bright as ever.” 

“ I am thankful to hear it. You gave her my mes- 
sage?” 

“ I did, sir, and she said she’d come up to see you this 
afternoon.” 

The master of The Turrets turned away his face with 
a sigh. Was he already regretting the promise he had 
made on the previous night ? 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


THE OGRES CHRISTMAS GIFT. 


“ The soul must go out from itself if it would find materials of joy. It 
must love its neighbors, or it must love the works of God, . . , if it 

would not be absolutely forlorn.-’ — Dr. Hamilton. 


E was lying on his couch in the big bay window 



A A of his favorite.room, the library, enjoying the short- 
lived afternoon sunshine, and watching the long icicles 
that hung glittering from the dark greenery of the fir 
trees melting in the warmth, and the flock of white 
pigeons wheeling and curveting against the background 
of pale blue sky, and thinking very deeply when Eva 


came. 


She rode gaily into the courtyard, mounted on the 
indefatigable Tommy, and glanced up with a bright 
smile to wave her hand to her friend. No one could 
have guessed that that little girl and little steed had, but 
a few short hours before, been lost in the snow, both 
looked so trim and smart. 

s 

A moment later Eva ran into the room, her hands 
full of lovely Christmas roses, which she triumphantly 
presented to the master of The Turrets. 

“ I growed them myself, your highness dear,” she 
said, “ in my own garden ; and just as I was coming 


(205) 


2o6 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


out I thoughted you would like them, so I ran back 
and picked them, and Mollie gave me that ribbon to 
tie them up with, so’s to look smart. Do you like them, 
your highness ? ” 

“ Indeed I do,” he answered earnestly. “ Don’t I 
always like your gifts, little woman ? ” 

“ That’s what grandfather says,” remarked Eva. “ Ogre 
dear, poor grandfather isn’t very well. He was so 
frightened last night ; and you see when you’re old it’s 
not good for your health to be frightened. That’s what 
Mollie says, and she knows.” 

“ Were you very frightened last night ? ” the ogre 
asked, looking at her intently. 

Eva’s bright face flushed. “ I was a little ; but it was 
very naughty of me. I knew that God was taking care 
of me, and I ought to have trusted in him. I did most 
of the time ; but it was so cold, and oh, so dark ! ” She 
gave a little shudder. 

“ Don’t talk about it any more,” said Captain Ransom 
hastily. “ And how’s Dickie ? ” he asked, after a mo- 
ment’s pause. 

“ Dickie’s quite well, thank you, ’cept he’s got a lot of 
big bruises, ’cos he tumbled into a ditch when he was 
looking for me. Wasn’t he a brave little boy, your 
highness dear, to come and look for me all by himself? 
Mrs. Harriss is so pleased about it, she says she’s just 
proud of Dickie; but Dickie says it’s no better than a 
dog what he did, and a boy ought to be as good as a 
dog any day.” * 

“ No better than a dog ! ” repeated his highness, look- 
ing puzzled. 

‘‘ He means the St. Bernard dogs,” Eva explained. 
“ He read in a story-book about them, you see, and that 
made him think of going to look for me.” 


THE OGRESS CHRISTMAS GIFT. 


207 


‘‘Ah! Well, Dickie is quite a little hero, and you 
must send him up to see me, Eva. I should like to 
have a conversation with him.” 

“ Do you know why I sent for you to-day, Eva ? ” the 
master of The Turrets asked presently. 

“ ’Cos you wanted me to come and sit with you, ogre 
dear.” 

“ I sent for you because I have a present to give you, 
child — my Christmas gift,” said the master of The Tur- 
rets in a strange, low voice. 

Eva looked at him in some surprise. “ Would you 
mind keeping it till Christmas Eve, your highness dear ? ” 
she asked very earnestly. “ I always have my presents 
on Christmas Eve, ^cos it’s more ’citin’ then, you see.” 

‘‘No. You must let me give it you to-day,” he said. 
“ It is best that I should give it you to-day. If I kept it I 
might be tempted to change my mind. I might not give 

to you at all.” 

“ Is it choc’lates?” asked Eva. 

“ No,” said the ogre with surprise. ‘‘ What made you 
think so ? ” 

“ ’ Cos I know how it is when one gets choc’lates to 
give away for a present,” said Eva feelingly. ‘‘ It’s 
dreffly tempting to see them and not be able to have one, 
isn’t it ? ” 

Captain Ransom smiled faintly. “ Well, it’s not choc- 
olates,” he said ; “ but it’s a gift I think you’ll prize, Eva 
— a gift that I think will be of greater value to you than 
any other I could make you. It’s a gift, too, that no one 
else has it in their power to give.” 

Eva looked at him earnestly. ‘‘ I can’t understand,” 
she said. ” You look so grave, your highness dear, and 
there’s such a .solemn ’spression in your eyes. Don’t you 
want to give me this thing ? Does it make you unhappy ? ” 


2o8 the little lady OF LA VENDEE. 

'' It will mean a great loss to me/’ he answered, speak- 
ing more to himself than to the child. 

“ Then I won’t let you give it to me, ogre dear,” cried 
Eva quickly. 

“ What did I say, child? Yes, I want you to have it. 
I wish to give it to you — do you understand? If I 
were not to make you this present, Eva, I should feel 
very unhappy. Christmas would bring me no blessing 
— no joy; and others would be unhappy too.” 

“ Would papa be unhappy? ” 

He nodded his head silently. 

‘‘And grandfather?” 

“And grandfather. You see that it is best that I 
should give you this present, Eva.” 

“ Yes, I s’pose so,” Eva answered, looking sadly per- 
plexed. “ I don’t like it, ’cos it makes you unhappy, 
your highness dear,” she cried suddenly. “ I can’t bear 
to see your kind face look so unhappy.” ^ 

The ogre could not resist a smile. It was certainly 
some time since he had heard his countenance described as 
“ kind,” though he had frequently overheard the less flat- 
tering adjectives of “ surly ” and “ morose ” applied to it. 

“ There are other people besides me to be thought 
of,” he said. “ Have you forgotten Mrs. Smith ? ” 

Eva shook her head, and her blue eyes filled with 
tears. “ I always ’member her,” she said. “ But, ogre 
dear, it is so sad. Mrs. Smith can’t come to see me at 
Christmas. She’s going ever so far away, right across 
the sea, to a country that’s in my g’og’phy book, and is 
colored yellow, and shaped like papa’s big hunting- 
boot, but I don’t know its name.” 

“ From your vivid and excellent description, I should 
say that it is Italy, my little Eva ! ” said the ogre, smil- 
ing slightly. “ But you don’t want her to go, do you ? ” 


THE OGRESS CHRISTMAS GIFT. 


209 


“ Of course I don’t,” the little girl exclaimed. “ Why, 
I love her, your highness dear; and you know how it is 
when you love a person, you want them to stay with 
you always.” 

“ H’m — I daresay. Never had any experience in that 
sort of thing myself,” commented his highness in his 
driest tone. “ Well, see here, Eva, you must take my 
Christmas gift, and then — well, then you will see what 
happens.” 

“ Is it a jack-in-the-box, and when you press the 
spring a funny little man inside jumps out?” Eva asked 
with some excitement. 

“ No ; it’s something even more surprising. And it’s 
no use guessing, little woman, for I cannot tell you now. 
Just before you go this afternoon I will give you my 
present, and you must ask your father to open it when 
you get home. No one but your father must open it — 
you and he together; and you may tell him that it is 
my Christmas present to you. Do you quite under- 
stand, child ? ” 

Yes, thank you, ogre dear,” said the little girl. But 
her sweet face looked very grave. It seemed to her that 
a present that made the giver so unhappy was a more 
serious than pleasant thing. And she was puzzled by 
the ogre’s manner. She had never seen him in such a 
mood before. 

Eva’s visit to the master of The Turrets was a shorter 
one than usual that afternoon. She . had promised 
her grandfather to be home early, and Captain Her- 
bert’s groom had ridden up with her, and was 
waiting to return with her. There was to be no more 
riding alone for Eva while the snowy weather lasted, and 
the master of The Turrets was relieved when she told 
him this. 

14 


210 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


“ I will come and see you again very soon, your 
highness dear — to-morrow, if- 1 can,” said the little girl, 
as she wished him good-bye. 

The invalid retained the small hand, cased in a neat 
dogskin riding glove, for a moment, and looked earn- 
estly into the child’s sweet face. 

“ Eva,” he said, “ I am going to ask something of 
you.” 

“ What is it, ogre dear ? ” she asked eagerly. I 
should like to do something for you very much.” 

“ I want you, little Eva, to think of me always as 
kindly and as tolerantly as you can,” he said, looking 
wistfully into the innocent blue eyes raised to his. 

There was something so sad, so humble and deprecat- 
ing in his tone, that the little girl’s tender heart was 
touched to the core. 

In her pretty, impulsive fashion she climbed up on 
the side of his high couch and kissed the pale, thin face 
of the invalid. Was it a fancy, or as she did so did she 
really feel a tear upon his cheek? 

“ Ogre dearest,” she said in her most tender manner,^ I’m 
dreffly afraid you’re not well. Your spirits seem so low; 
and when Mollie’s spirits are low she always says it’s a 
sign she’s ill. Mollie gets a very ser'ous illness ; she 
says it’s called high strikes, but Dickie says the real 
name is jumps. It’s a very noisy illness,” explained Eva 
in an awestruck tone. *‘You keep screaming ever so 
loud till your throat’s so sore you can’t scream any 
more, and then you shut your eyes and open your 
mouth and lie quite still.” 

“ What a terrible performance ! I hope I shall never 
indulge in such a complaint,” exclaimed Captain Ran- 
som, laughing in spite of himself, “ Now, little woman, 
have you a safe pocket or something to put my present 


THE OGRESS CHRISTMAS GIFT 


21 


into? You mustn’t lose it on any account, because it’s 
a thing that I shan’t have power to replace.” 

“ Tommy has a nice safe little pocket in his saddle. 
I’ll put it in there, shall I ? ” 

“ Yes, that will do very well. Now, hand me that 
paper-case — the morocco one on the escritoire. Yes, 
that is it.” 

Eva set the paper-case on a small table by the couch, 
and Captain Ransom unlocked it, and took out from a 
small drawer a sealed envelope, which he placed in the 
child’s hands. 

“ There is your present, Eva,” he said in a low and 
very earnest tone. Always remember that it is 
present — my free and willing gift to you, a gift no other 
person would ever have received from me while I lived, 
a secret that would have died with me.” 

The child whom he addressed could not realize what 
his words meant, and knew nothing of the good influ- 
ence her sweet innocence and trust had exercised on his 
hardened heart. Her power lay in her utter uncon- 
sciousness, her simple, loving nature. 

“ Your highness dear,” she said, “ thank you for the 
present. I wish it didn’t make you so sad ; but as you 
say it’s right for me to take it, and will make everybody 
happy, I s’pose I ought to ? ” She looked up at him 
rather doubtfully. 

‘*Yes, take it; I wish you to,” he said hurriedly. 

But, Eva,” he added in a wistful tone, you must try 
not to forget the promise I asked you to make me. Tell 
me what that promise was ? ” 

“ To think of you kindly,” said the little girl. “ But, 
ogre dear, I always think of you kindly — of course I do, 
'cos I’m your little friend, and I love you.” 

She looked up at him wistfully. She could not under- 


212 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


stand him this afternoon. He was so strange and sad — 
so different from how she was accustomed to see him. 

When she had bidden him good-bye, and had reached 
the library door on her way out, she ran back to kiss 
him once more, because she thought — kind little soul — 
that he looked so sad and lonely lying there — more sad 
and lonely than usual, it seemed to her. 

She w^as thinking about him still as she rode home- 
wards through the woods that were all alight with the 
golden rays of the setting sun, while underfoot the 
thick, soft carpet of snow, bathed in the flood of yellow 
radiance, shone and glittered as dazzlingly as a myriad 
diamonds. 

It is such a pretty day, isn’t it ? ” Eva had said to her 
grandfather when she started on her ride to The Turrets ; 
but she scarcely noticed how lovely the sunset light 
made the woods now, for her thoughts were fully occu- 
pied with her invalid friend. 

Thinking of him her sweet little face took a very grave 
expression, and Tommy was allowed to proceed accord- 
ing to the dictates of his own sweet will, which, after the 
unusual fatigues of the previous night, proved to be 
a very deliberate pace indeed. 

And in the pocket of Eva’s saddle lay, carefully tucked 
away, the mysterious letter — a letter of such importance 
to herself and to those nearest . and dearest to her as the 
child little imagined. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


VERY BEAUTIFUL AND WONDERFUL! 





“ I heard the bells on Christmas Day 
Their old familiar carols play, 

And wild and sweet 
The words repeat 

Of peace on earth, goodwill to men.” 


I.ONGFELLOW. 



VA was naturally very eager to hear the contents 


' of that mysterious letter. She could not imagine 
what it could be about. She felt thoroughly puzzled. 

On arriving home she gave Tommy into old Philip’s 
charge, and ran upstairs to her father’s room. He had 
just returned from a ride, and was standing before the 
fire pulling off the high boots that reminded Eva of the 
outline of Italy on the map, when the little girl. tapped on 
the door, and turning the handle peeped into the room. 

“ Come in, little woman,” he called out. “ I thought 
I heard Master Tommy trot down the drive.” 

“ Papa dear,” cried Eva, holding out the sealed enve- 
lope, “ here’s a present the ogre gived me — a Christmas 
present — and he said I was to ask you to open it.” ' 
“ Indeed ! ” said Captain Herbert in some surprise. 
“ Well, come here, Eva, and we’ll open it together and 
see what it contains.” 


(213) 


214 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


He sat down on the low, cushioned window-seat and 
lifted his little girl up on his knee. 

‘‘It’s a very big envelope,” Eva remarked — “ever 
such a big, fat envelope.” 

Captain Herbert took it in his hand and turned it over 
to look at an address which he saw was written on the 
face. The next moment he shrank back with a startled 
exclamation. 

“ What is it, papa ? ” cried Eva in a rather frightened 
tone. “What made you give such a jump ? Are you 
ill, papa dear ? ” she asked anxiously. 

“ No, Eva — no, dear, only very much surprised,” he 
answered reassuringly, but in an agitated voice. “ Look 
here, my child ; this letter, you see, is addressed to me. 
And now, dear, as it is most important, and I want to 
give my undivided attention to it, I must ask you to 
leave me by myself for a little while. You understand 
how it is, little woman ? ” 

A disappointed look stole over Eva’s bright face. It 
was disappointing not to see the contents of that interest- 
ing letter after all, and, besides, the ogre had told her 
that it was his present to her, and that she was to con- 
sider it quite her own. 

But Eva was one of those rare and beautiful things — 
an obedient child, so she slipped quietly down from her 
father’s knee, saying quite cheerfully, “ Very well, papa 
dear,” and went out of the room, leaving him to read the 
important letter alone and undisturbed. 

“ Papa knows best,” she said to herself as she went 
down the corridor to the nursery. 

Her implicit faith in her father made her feel certain 
that he would always do that which was best and right 
for her. 


FEJ^V BEAUTIFUL AND WONDERFUL. 

Eva always went down to the drawing-room for an 
hour before her bedtime, so this evening when she had 
finished tea Mollie arrayed her as usual in what the 
little girl called her evening dress.” 

It was the simplest possible frock of dove-colored 
cashmere, made in the quaint fashion of a century ago, 
with a straight skirt, and a silk sash of the same color 
tied round the short waist just under the arms. And 
round Eva’s neck was a tiny necklace of pink coral 
that vied with the pretty color of the little maiden’s 
cheeks. 

A very dainty little maiden she looked, as she tripped 
lightly down the old oak stairs — a child who might have 
stepped from the pages of one of Kate Greenaway’s 
charming picture-books of the children of long ago. 

The rector was in the drawing-room, sitting reading in 
the quaint chimney-corner, with the light from the ruddy 
logwood fire flickering upon his calm old face and silvery 
hair. He looked up from his book with a smile as his 
little granddaughter entered the room. 

“ Ah ! there you are, my dearie. I was wondering 
what had become of my little girl.” 

“Am I late, grandfather dear ? ” Eva asked, as she 
climbed up to her favorite perch, the arm of his easy- 
chair. “ I didn’t know I was late. Where’s papa ? ” 

“ He has gone out — he has gone to The Turrets,” was 
Mr. Herbert’s very unexpected reply. 

“ Gone to The Turrets ! ” cried Eva in a very surprised 
voice. “ Has papa gone to see the ogre, grandfather 
dear — has he ? ” she asked wonderingly. 

“ Yes, he has gone to see him on very important 
business.” 

“ About the letter? ” asked the little girl. 

“ Yes, about the letter,” Mr. Herbert answered 


2i6 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


quietly. '‘Your father will tell you all about it when he 
comes in, Eva, my dear. He will have a great deal to 
tell you.” 

“ Something happy and nice ? ” asked the child rather 
wistfully. 

“ Something which we trust will end happily,” Mr. 
Herbert replied with a half-suppressed sigh. 

A serious light crept over Eva’s innocent face. 

“ Grandfather dear,” she said softly, as she laid her 
small hand on his, “ nothing is ever quite happy — quite 
perfectly happy I mean, is it ? ” 

The old man looked down a little wonderingly into 
the child’s sweet, thoughtful face. It was a strangely 
thoughtful face for such a young one, he sometimes 
thought. “ There is no unmixed cup of joy in this 
world, my Eva,” he said gently. “ But by and by, in 
heaven, we shall possess perfect happiness. Still, even 
here, my little girl, we may have peace — the peace that 
passeth all understanding.” 

Eva’s bedtime arrived before Captain Herbert returned, 
and Mollie’s figure appearing in the doorway as the usual 
summons was an unwelcome sight to the little girl that 
evening. 

" Don’t you think it would be a good thing if I was 
to sit up till papa comes in, grandfather dear ? ” she asked. 

" No, my dear, it is better for you to go to bed. You 
will see your father in the morning.” 

“ Very well, grandfather dear,” said Eva with a little 
sigh. “ Oh dear, how dreffly quick bedtime does come 
sometimes ! ” 

The rector smiled. ‘1 Good-night, my dearie,” he said, 
kissing the sweet face raised to his. ” Happy dreams, 
childie.” 


BEAUTIFUL AND WONDERFUL. 


217 


But though Eva went to bed she did not, as was her 
usual custom, fall asleep directly, but lay broad awake in 
her little white bed and thought about the mysterious 
letter, and the ogre, and papa. Everything seemed very 
puzzling and curious just then to the little girl, and she 
wondered iii a simple, childish fashion what it all meant, 
and whether it would end happily, as grandfather hoped 
it would. 

Mollie had left the window-blind drawn up at Eva’s 
request. The child liked to be able to see the clear, 
sapphire sky and the bright, twinkling stars, and to watch 
the big, yellow moon that shone so tranquilly high above 
the dark and rugged outline of the downs. 

Eva had been in bed nearly half an hour, and the 
cuckoo in the clock on the nursery mantelpiece had just 
flown out of his little house eight times and given eight 
calls when she heard horses’ hoofs coming down the 
drive and knew that her father was returning. A few 
moments later she heard his voice speaking to the rector 
in the hall, and then they both went into the drawing- 
room and closed the door. 

Eva sat up in bed and listened for her father’s step on 
the stair. She decided that she would call to him and 
ask him to tell her about the letter before she went to 
sleep. She felt too excited to sleep before she heard 
about it. 

The little girl listened anxiously and in a few moments 
she heard the drawing-room door open and Captain Her- 
bert cross the hall and come upstairs. 

“ Papa ! papa ! ” she cried out eagerly, as he passed 
the nursery door on the way to his own room. 

Captain Herbert heard the call, and, pushing open the 
nursery door, looked in. “ Hullo, little woman, not 
asleep yet ? ” he said. 


2i8 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


Eva sat up in bed, a little white-robed figure, with the 
silvery moonbeams falling on her eager face and expect- 
ant blue eyes. 

“ I couldn’t sleep, papa dear,” she said, “ I was too 
’cited. Grandfather said you’d tell me about the letter 
when you came in — will you ? ” 

“ I think I had better tell you in the morning. It is 
so late now, and you should be asleep. I’m sure, little 
one,” Captain Herbert objected. 

“ I couldn't sleep,” Eva assured him. “ I’m ever so 
wide awake, papa dear, I ’sure you. Look at my eyes; 
they don’t blink a bit. Please sit down on the bed aside 
me and tell me all about the ’portant letter. May I 
hear all about it, papa dear ? ” 

‘‘Yes, I want to tell you about it,” said her father, 
seating himself on the foot of the bed as Eva suggested; 
“ but to-night’s not the time, little woman.” 

“ I’ll go to sleep dreckly minute you’ve told me, papa 
dear,” promised the little girl eagerly. 

“ Ah, but I’m not so sure of that ! ” said her father, 
smiling. 

“ Papa dear, how happy you do look ! ” Eva cried 
out suddenly. “ Have you heard some very good news, 
papa ? ” 

“ Some very good news, Eva.” 

“ Was it in the ogre’s letter ? ” asked the little girl 
eagerly. 

” Yes, it was in the letter you brought, dear,” her 
father answered. “ It is wonderful news, my little girl 
— wonderful news for you and for me.” 

Eva looked up at him quickly. “ Why, papa dear,” 
she cried in an awestruck voice, “ there are tears in your 
eyes; and yet your voice sounds ever so glad and 
happy. What is it, papa ? ” asked Eva in a very puz- 


VEI^Y BEAUTIFUL AND WONDERFUL. 


219 


zled voice. “ I can’t understand at all — please ’splain to 
me.” 

“ Eva dear,” he said, looking into her sweet, bewil- 
dered little face very earnestly, “you love Mrs. Smith 
very much, don’t you ? ” 

“ Of course I do,” she answered wonderingly. “ You 
know I do, papa.” 

“Yes, I thought so. And what would you say, my 
little girl, if you heard that Mrs. Smith was coming to 
live with you and take care of you always ? ” 

Eva clapped her hands delightedly. “ It would be 
quite 'licious / ” she cried. “ Is dear Mrs. Smith coming 
for Christmas after all ? — oh, is she really, papa ? ” 

“ I hope so,” he answered in a grave but very happy 
voice ; “ I hope so, Eva.” 

“ But ’bout the letter — I don’t understand ? ” asked 
the little girl, the puzzled look deepening in her innocent 
face. 

Captain Herbert hesitated. How should he explain 
to the child all that was necessary without telling her 
more than he wished her to know ? 

After an instant he spoke. “ Eva,” he said, “ the 
letter that Captain Ransom gave you was a letter written 
and addressed to me several years ago by Mrs. Smith. 
Mrs. Smith sent it to Captain Ransom to forward to me 
because she was aware that he knew my address, and 
she did not. Well, my child. Captain Ransom told Mrs. 
Smith that he would send the letter to me at once, but 
he never attempted to do so until to-day. Now there 
was something very serious and important in that letter ; 
and because it was not forwarded* to me, as it should 
have been, several people were made to feel very un- 
happy and a great wrong was done. Do you under- 
stand what I’ve told you, Eva ? ” her father asked anx- 


220 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


iously; for he was not much accustomed to children, 
and found it very difficult to explain this matter easily 
and clearly to the little girl. 

I think I understand, papa,” said Eva, looking very 
grave. “ Did the ogre know it would make you un- 
happy if he didn’t send you Mrs. Smith’s letter ? ” she 
asked in a low voice. 

“ Yes, I am sorry to say he did,” her father replied 
quietly.- “ He acted very wickedly, Eva, and his con- 
duct has caused a great deal of harm and misery.” 

Eva had never heard Captain Herbert speak so sternly 
before, and she thought sadly that the ogre must have 
been very wicked for papa to speak like that. But then 
she thought of the poor ogre — how sick and how lonely 
he was, and how kind he was to her and to her poor 
friends, and the little girl’s tender heart melted at once. 

“ Papa dear,” she cried tearfully. “ I’m sure the ogre 
didn’t mean to be naughty, and oh. I’m certain he’s 
sorry now. Won’t you forgive him, papa ? ” 

“You scarcely know what you ask of me, child,” he 
answered almost sternly. “ But we will not speak of 
Captain Ransom to-night, Eva. I have no desire to 
speak of him.” 

Poor Eva’s lip quivered. She had learned to love the 
master of The Turrets, and it hurt her tender heart to hear 
her father speak so harshly of him. A more loyal little 
soul than Eva never breathed, and she was faithful to her 
affection for Captain Ransom even at this trying moment. 

“ Papa dear,” she said quickly, “ the ogre’s a poor ill 
person, you know, and grandfather says we ought to be 
very kind to poor ill people and never feel angry with 
them, ’cos it’s so sad for them to be sick. Won’t you 
forgive his highness, papa dear ? ” 

But Captain Herbert turned away his face from the 


V£/^y BEAUTIFUL AND WONDERFUL. 


221 


pleading eyes and hardened his heart against the eager, 
gentle voice. A great wrong had been done to him, 
and, worse still, to those nearest and dearest to him — a 
wrong that had almost broken his heart and had gone 
nigh to spoiling two lives. He told himself that he was 
perfectly justified in cherishing a resentment against the 
man who had worked this evil. He felt that he had a 
right to be angry. 

Little children, while your hearts are soft and kind, 
strive to keep them so. When we grow older selfish- 
ness and the troubles of the world, and the cares of life 
and the deceitfulness of riches, and many other things, 
combine to make us hard ; but if we take\the spirit of 
love into our hearts when we are young it will keep 
them kind and gentle and teach us to forgive, and, what 
is sometimes even more difficult, to forbear. 

“ Eva,” said Captain Herbert suddenly, “ we will dis- 
cuss this — this wretched subject another time. I have 
something happier and better to talk to you about now.” 

“ Very well, papa dear,” said the little girl ; “ is it 
something more about the letter ? 

But though she tried to speak in her usual cheerful 
little way, there was a very grave look in Eva’s blue 
eyes, and her father knew that she was still thinking 
about the master of The Turrets. 

“ Little woman,” he said with a slight touch of impa- 
tience in his tone, “you must forget about Captain 
Ransom for a few minutes. Banish him from your 
thoughts. I’ve some happy news to tell you, but I can’t 
tell it while you look so serious.” 

“ Papa dear, please tell me now. I’ll try not to look 
ser’ous for a little while,” said Eva earnestly. 

He stooped and kissed her innocent face. “ Eva, 
sometimes little people cannot quite understand what is 


222 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


right and best, and then they have to trust to those who 
know what is wisest and who have more experience.” 

‘‘I was thinking about what it says in my prayer,” 
said Eva thoughtfully. Don’t you ’member, papa 
dear? — ‘Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them 
that trespass against us.’ That was what Jesus taught 
his disciples to say, wasn’t it ? ” 

“ Yes,” he answered in a very low voice. 

There was a moment’s silence, and then Eva stretch- 
ing up put her little arm caressingly round her father’s 
neck and drew his face down to hers. “ Papa dear, 
please — please forgive the ogre ! ” she whispered plead- 
ingly. “ You’re such a good gentleman, papa, and 
always do what’s right ; but p’r’aps, ’cos the poor dear 
ogre’s ill it’s made him do wrong things, ’cos very often, 
you see, the bad pain in his back makes him cross and 
unhappy. Do forgive him.” 

“ If Mrs. Smith forgives him I will ; there’s a promise, 
little woman,” cried Captain Herbert, as with a suspi- 
cious moisture in his own eyes he kissed away Eva’s 
tears. “ Come, don’t cry any more, pet ; this is no time 
for crying.” 

“ Oh, thank you ; thank you ever so much, papa 
dear,” cried the little girl happily. “ I know for certain 
that Mrs. Smith will forgive him, ’cos she has such a 
kind and loving heart.” 

“And now that you are happy I have something to 
tell you about Mrs. Smith,” said her father. 

“ Please tell me quick, papa dear. I never can guess 
things, and I’m so ’cited to know.” 

“ This evening, Eva, I am going to write to Mrs. 
Smith to ask her to come to us for ' Christmas, and I 
hope — I hope and trust that she will not say No this 
time. And, Eva, there is something else I have to tell 


VERY BEAUTIFUL AND WONDERFUL. 


223 


you — something that will surprise you very much ” 

He hesitated, hardly knowing how to continue. 

Yes, papa, yes ! ” cried Eva eagerly. 

He held her small hand closer in his. “ I told you 
that Mrs. Smith and I were friends years ago, Eva. 
Well, there arose a misunderstanding between us — a 
shadow that the letter that Captain Ransom kept back 
would have explained away. You are too young for me 
to explain to you his motive in keeping it back, dear 
child, and it is not necessary that you should know it ; 
but you must understand that he acted as he did inten- 
tionally because he wished to injure us and to keep us 
apart, and he succeeded. — Eva, I have never spoken to 
you of your mother.” 

“ No,” said Eva gently, “I thought it made you un- 
happy to talk about her, papa dear, ’cos she’s dead, and 
you loved her so much. Isn’t that it ? ” 

“ Would you be glad if you heard that your mother 
was still living, little one ? ” her father asked very 
gently. 

A sudden light flashed across the child’s intelligent 
mind, and a bright flush dyed her eager little face. 

Papa,” she cried, “ papa ! ” And her voice was full 
of a glad surprise. 

“ Well, little woman,” he said, and there were tears in 
his eyes, though there was a smile on his lips, and he 
clasped the child’s little hands very close in his. ” Well, 
little woman, can you guess the happy news I have to 
tell you now ? ” 

“ Papa dear, is it — can it be that dear Mrs. Smith is 
my own mother — my very own — is it, papa ? ” 

” Yes, Eva, that is it.” 

“ O papa dear, isn’t it bufiil^ isn’t it wonderful ? ” cried 
the little girl rapturously. 


224 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


“ Very beautiful and wonderful,” he repeated softly. 

It was late when Eva fell asleep that night. She 
had so much to think about that she found it hard work 
to compose her busy little mind sufficiently to sleep. 

She was very happy and very contented. It all seemed 
so delightful — so perfect. She began to think that after 
all her grandfather had made a mistake, and that it was 
possible to be perfectly happy in this world. 

But suddenly another thought crept into her mind, 
and she remembered her invalid friend at The Turrets, 
and felt sure that there was little happiness and joy for 
him this night. And, as she thought, the shadow of his 
loneliness and pain and remorse seemed to cast a sombre 
reflection on the brightness of her own happy heart and 
to temper its joy. “ Poor, dear ogre ! ” she said to her- 
self, and her eyes filled with tears. 

Presently, as she lay there thinking of him very wist- 
fully, and almost forgetful of her happiness because he 
was so ill and sad, a sweet sound of music reached her 
ears. It was the soft melody of the distant church bells 
of Lavender ringing because Christmas was near. 

Eva sat up in bed and listened. She loved the sweet, 
familiar peal ; and she remembered that her grandfather 
had told her that at Christmas-tide the bells are rung to 
convey a message of peace and goodwill from heaven to 
the wearied hearts of men. 

“ Peace on earth, goodwill towards men.” That is the 
beautiful Christmas message the bells ring out. 

A sudden thought occurred to little Eva as she sat 
listening to them. She slipped out of bed and knelt 
down, clasping her hands and closing her eyes very 
reverently. And then, from that quiet room, with the 
clear, silvery moonbeams falling softly on the dark oak 


BEAUTIFUL AND WONDERFUL. 


225 


panellings and heavy antique furniture, and lingering 
with tender light on the little white-robed figure kneeling 
by the bed, went up to the throne of grace a very simple 
petition — a child’s confiding prayer. 

‘‘ Dear Lord, please forgive the poor ogre, ’cos he’s so 
ill and unhappy. And please let the church bells tell 
him the message of peace and goodwill this Christmas- 
time ! ” 

15 


CHAPTER XXV. 


LONDON TOWN. 


“ John and Joan go up to town, 
London town to view ; 


The streets are gold, so we are told. 
We’ll see, both I and you.” 


Mrs. Sale Barker. 


HE next morning as Eva was crossing the hall to 



- 1 - the breakfast room she saw the old village post- 
man with his big leathern letter-bag slung over his 
shoulder entering the porch. Old Meadows was one of 
Eva’s special friends, and she ran out to meet him at 


once. 


Good morning, Mr. Meadows,” she said in her sweet 
polite way, ” I hope you’re well.” 

“ Pretty middlip’, Miss ’Vangeline, pretty middlin’. 
And how’s yourself, missy ? ” asked the old man, looking 
down with a smile into the sweet upturned face of the 
Little Lady of Lavender. 

“ Oh, my health is quite well, thank you,” answered 
Eva gravely ; “ Pve been taking a great deal of medicine 
called liver oil, and it’s made me very strong. Have you 
brought us many letters, Mr. Meadows? Your bag 
looks very fat.” 

“ There’s only one for your pa. Miss ’Vangeline,” Mr. 


(226) 


LONDON TOWN 


227 


Meadows replied, as he fumbled in his bag and produced 
the missive he spoke of — a thick letter with a big gold 
crest on the back of it. 

What a smart letter ! ” cried Eva admiringly. 

“ Well, it certainly be smartish,” said the old postman 
patronizingly. “ But law. Miss ’Vangeline, ’tain’t nothing 
to the letters I carries sometimes — there’s cresties as big 
as my fist on em, or the name of the ’ouse of the sender 
in gold letters as large as the alphabet in the school 
primers, and that’s a fact, I can assure you.” 

“ Why are the cres — cresties, did you say it was, Mr. 
Meadows — so big ? ” the little girl asked with much 
interest. 

“ Well, I should say it is ’cos the sight of this here 
generation’s so defective that they wouldn’t see it unless,” 
replied the old man. ” If you notice. Miss Eva, hinfants 
is a-wearin’ of spectacles nowadays — poor things, wot 
objects they do look in ’em too ! And ’cos the sight’s 
so bad, missy, everythink has to be done on a large scale 
so people will be sure to see it. The Paris Exhibi- 
tion, for hinstance — you’ve heard tell of that, Miss 
Eva, I make no doubt? — well, look at the size of 
that — 'normous ; and that's only so that the defective 
sight of this here generation shall be able to take it 
in.” 

Eva looked very much impressed. ” Dear me,” she 
said, and is that why the Eiffel Tower was built so high, 
Mr. Meadows, because people can’t see? ” 

“ Yes, that’s the reason of it, Miss ’Vangeline ; you’ve 
’it the right nail on the ’ead,” answered Mr. Meadows 
condescendingly. 

” What a clever person you are, Mr. Meadows ! ” cried 
the little girl, with genuine admiration. 

Mr. Meadows .smiled indulgently. He quite agreed 


228 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


with the little lady. “ You always were .that discerning, 
Miss Eva,” he said in a complacent tone. 

Eva did not know what ” discerning ” meant, but she 
supposed as the old postman looked so smiling, it must 
be something pleasant. She was just about to inquire 
when her father came into the hall. 

“ What are you doing, little woman ? ” he said, as he 
stooped to kiss Eva. “ Grandfather and I are waiting 
breakfast for our tea-maker. Hullo, Meadows ! good- 
morning. Are you quite well — eh ? That’s right. 
You had better go into the kitchen and get some break- 
fast. It’s a cold morning, and a cup of hot coffee will do 
you good.” 

“ Thank’ee, sir,” said the old postman with alacrity, 
which I shall be very glad of summat warmin’.” 

“ Good-morning, Mr. Meadows,” cried Eva, as she 
followed her father into the breakfast-room. “ You 
must tell me some more int’restin’ things another day. 
I liked hearing about the ’fective sight and the Paris 
Exhibition very much.” 

While breakfast was progressing, and Eva was very 
seriously dispensing tea from behind a big silver urn that 
effectually hid her small figure. Captain Herbert read the 
letter Meadows had brought him. When he had finished 
doing so he handed it to the rector, saying — 

“ From Meredith, father. He wants me to run up to 
town for a day or two. He has a short leave and is 
anxious to see me. We’ve not met for two years now, 
and he wishes to introduce me to his wife.” 

‘^Do you think of going?” the rector asked, as he 
settled his gold-rimmed eyeglasses on his nose before 
reading the letter. 

“ Well, yes ; I think I might run up to-morrow for a 
couple of days. I should get back here for Christmas 


LONDON TOWN 


229 


Eve. And I don’t suppose we shall know anything 
definite until then ? ” he added questioningly. 

“ Probably not.” 

“ The fact is, I thought,” said Captain Herbert in a 
hurried, nervous way that was very unlike his usual 
quiet manner, “ I thought that I might have a chance — 

I might try to see her.” 

The rector stretched out his hand and clasped that of 
his son. “You can do no harm by trying, dear boy,” he 
said a little tremulously. 

Captain Herbert’s voice was tremulous too as he ' 
answered. 

“ You are not hopeful ? ” he said. 

“ My son, we must always hope for the best. But 
there has been a terrible mistake — a great wrong, and 
these things are not easily, alas, swept away.” 

Captain Herbert passed his hand wearily across his 
face, and for a moment remained silent. Then he said — 

“ You see they want me to take Eva. Can you spare 
her for a day or two, father ? ” 

At the mention of her name Eva looked up quickly. 
She had been occupied in feeding Julia with bread and 
milk and had not heard the foregoing conversation. 

“ Would you like to come to London town, little 
woman ? ” asked Captain Herbert. 

“ Go in the train with you, papa ? ” cried Eva, clap- 
ping her hands delightedly. “Oh, how 'licious! Are 
we going, papa dear ; are we really ? ” 

“Would you like it so much, pet? Well, you must 
ask grandfather what he says on the subject,” answered 
Captain Herbert, smiling at the eager little face. 

“ May I go, grandfather dear ? ” 

“ Well, I suppose I must try to spare my little house- 
keeper for a short time.” 


230 THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 

Eva’s face suddenly grew grave. “ Grandfather dear,” 
she said, “ I’m afraid you’ll feel lonely by yourself 
I forgot that just for a minute; it was selfish of me. 
Papa dear, I don’t think I’ll go to London, thank you. 
I don’t want to go very much.” 

Eva was not one of those children who when they 
make a sacrifice make it grudgingly, and so she spoke 
quite cheerfully and brightly. 

” I really don’t want to go so very much,” she repeated 
earnestly. 

“But / want you to go very much,” said the rector, 
smiling. “ I can spare you quite well for a day or two, 
dearie, and papa will like to take you with him. He 
is going to stay with a gentleman who is a very great 
friend of his, and who used often to stay here at 
Lavender Rectory years ago when he was a boy, and 
he and your father were schoolfellows. He is a 
very brave soldier now, and has won a great many 
medals. Dear me, how time flies ! ” cried the old 
clergyman, turning to Captain Herbert. “ It seems but 
yesterday to me that you, dear boy, and Meredith were 
noisy, romping lads playing at football on the lawn 
yonder with the other children ! ” 

He sighed as he looked at his son and thought 
of those other children whose merry voices had been 
silenced long ago, and upon whose dear faces he might 
never look in this world again. 

“ But God knows best,” he said softly. He had 
never forgotten that during the whole of his gentle, 
kindly life. It had been his comfort in sorrow, his 
stay in strife, and now it was the prop of his declining 
years. Presently, when the shadows of the dark 
valley must fall upon the path that had nearly reached 
the bottom of the hill, it would be his all-sufficient 


LONDON TOWN. 


231 


support through those dark shades into the glorious 
light of eternity. 

Faith is the light of life, little children, the beacon 
that raises our eyes above this earthy earth of ours to 
God and to heaven ; and it is a light without which 
many a frail bark, storm-tossed on the waves of this 
troublesome world, must founder forever. 

On the following morning Eva sat in a first-class 
compartment of the London express, between Captain 
Herbert and Julia. 

The little girl was full of eager anticipation and 
delight, and her father, who was unused to children and 
their quaint sayings and doings, was not a little enter- 
tained by her naive remarks. 

Captain Herbert felt grave doubts as to the expedi-. 
ency of Julia’s accompanying her little mistress to 
London, and was by no means certain that his friends 
would be charmed by the addition of a large bulldog 
of alarming appearance to their household. But 
Eva had been quite overcome at the bare idea of 
leaving her constant companion, and her father, 
seeing that it would certainly spoil her enjoyment 
to do so, had consented to this rather unwelcome 
addition to the traveling party. So there, on the 
cushioned seat, sat Julia — a joy to Eva and a terror to 
all beholders. 

Poor Julia! she was one of those personages whose 
bark is worse than their bite. Her ugly, ferocious head 
and immense goggle eyes, her thick-set body, bent legs, 
and stumpy tail, concealed a heart that was wholly 
devoted to her little mistress, and she would have gone 
through fire and water and imperilled her own life 
readily for Eva. 


232 


THE LITTLE LAD Y OF I. A VENDER. 


True, she detested cats, and was not disposed to 
behave sweetly and kindly towards the feline race ; 
but then the greatest souls have their little weaknesses. 

“ I am sure Julia loves going in the train, papa 
dear,” said Eva happily. “ See how she’s smiling. 
Hasn’t she got a sweet smile, papa.” 

“ Exceedingly sweet,” agreed Captain Herbert, look- 
ing up from Punch with a slight smile. “ But you must 
exert your influence to prevent her growling at 
the ticket collector, Eva, or all my tips will be thrown 
away, and she will be ignominiously consigned to the 
dog-box.” 

“ What’s tips, papa dear ? ”. 

“ Well, a tip, my dear, is a little token of regard in 
the form of coin. I presented the guard of this train 
with such a token so that you might enjoy the pleasure 
of Julia’s society, otherwise she would have been put 
into the dog-box.” 

“Julia couldn’t have gone in the dog-box,” said Eva; 
“ it would have hurt her feelings dreffly. Is this London 
station, papa?” asked the little girl, as the train came to 
a standstill. 

“ No ; we shan’t reach town for another hour. If you 
look out of the window you’ll see the name of the sta- 
tion painted on a board on the platform.” 

“ Oh, I see,” cried Eva eagerly, as she knelt upon the 
seat and pressed her face to the window. “ It’s Pears’ 
soap station, papa dear. Ah no, though, I s’pose it’s 
Colman’s mustard — p’raps it’s got two names, eh, 
papa ? ” 

Her father laughed. “ Those are only advertisements, 
dear,” he said ; “ but I don’t wonder at your mistake. 

Let me see, this is S Junction. We shall be in 

London in less than an hour.” 


LONDON TOWN. 


233 


“ London is where Mrs. Smith lives, papa? ” 

“ Yes, Eva.” 

“ Do you think we shall see her, papa ? ” 

“ I don’t know, darling. We may. I have written to 
her.” 

“ Don’t you hope she will come and stay with us at 
Christmas, papa ? ” 

” I hope she will come and stay with us always, my 
little girl ; but, as I told you, Eva, there has been a 
great wrong, and it takes a long time to set such a 
wrong right.” 

Captain Herbert’s face was very grave and sad, and 
there was a ring in his voice that touched his little girl’s 
sympathetic heart. She slipped her hand into his si- 
lently, and drew a little closer to his side. 

Captain Herbert stooped and kissed her. “You are 
my little comforter, Eva,” he said ; and his words were 
very sweet to the child. 

Eva had never seen such a busy scene as the London 
terminus at which they arrived an hour later, and it im- 
pressed her greatly. 

“ Papa,” she said, when she and her father were driv- 
ing through the streets in Colonel Meredith’s brougham, 
which had been sent to fetch them, “ papa dear, all the 
people in London seem in a drefful hurry. Are they 
always in a hurry ? ” 

“ Well, yes, dear. You see they are many of them 
very busy people.” 

“Ah!” said Eva. “Poor things! How tired they 
must get. Dear me, how somebody’s chimney’s smok- 
ing ! Do you think it’s on fire ? ” she exclaimed sud- 
denly. 

“ I see no smoke,” said Captain Herbert, looking out 
of the carriage window. 


234 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


“ Oh, but, papa dear, the air is quite yellow from it. 
Do look again.” 

“ That, my dear Eva, is fog — delightful yellow Lon- 
don fog — of the typical pea-soup description,” explained 
her father laughing. 

“ Well, it is bad,” said Eva looking very serious. 
“ How ill it must make the people that live in it feel ! 
I s’pose that’s why the London dogs all wear respira- 
tors, eh, papa dear ? ” 

“ Respirators, my dear child — what can you mean ? ” 
cried Captain Herbert, looking greatly puzzled. 

They all wear them,” said Eva. “ Look ! that poor 
little dog walking with that lady in the blue dress has 
one. Don’t you see it right over his nose and mouth ? ” 

Captain Herbert laughed heartily. “ You are the 
funniest little woman, Eva,” he said. “ Those things you 
see the dogs wearing are muzzles^ not respirators ; dogs 
wear them to prevent their biting.” 

“ That’s a good plan,” said Eva approvingly ; “ ’cos 
then the dogs can’t fight and hurt each other. I suppose 
the London people are very peaceful and don’t like to 
see fighting : that’s nice of them.” 

“ Peace at any price, eh ? ” said her father. “ When 
you are older, Eva, you will know that unfortunately 
peace and honor do not always go hand in hand.” 

Eva scarcely heard him ; she was looking with great 
interest at a high house in a big square, before which the 
brougham was drawing up. The Rectory was a two- 
storied house, and so were all the country residences she 
knew ; this building, with its seven rows of windows, 
one above the other, much impressed the little girl. 

“ I should think it’s as high as the Eiffel Tower,” she 
said, as she went up the steps to the door with her hand 
in her father’s. 


LONDON TOWN 


235 


A tall, powdered footman answered the summons of an 
electric bell and ushered the visitors into the hall. 

Papa dear,” cried Eva, squeezing her father’s hand 
to attract his attention, “ what a very int’restin’ thing, 
isn’t it ? ” 

“ What’s interesting, little woman ? ” 

Why, this footman is the brother of the ogre’s 
footman, John,” whispered Eva eagerly. “ Don’t you 
’member John, papa ? ” 

“ But how do you know this man is his brother, my 
dear child ? ” 

’Cos he is dressed just like him,” answered Eva 
promptly ; “ the same colored silk stockings and the 
same powdered hair and the same long-tailed coat — just 
look, papa ! ” 

Captain Herbert laughed, but as they were just entering 
the drawing-room there was no time for him to explain 
to Eva that she would, while in London, see many foot- 
men dressed similarly to her friend John who could 
claim no relationship with that dignitary. 

A very pretty young lady came across the drawing- 
room to meet Eva and her father. She had fair, curling 
hair and a sweet face, and her eyes were as blue as the 
bunch of violets she wore in her dress. 

“ How do you do. Captain Herbert ? ” she said, hold- 
ing out her hand. “ It is so tiresome ! my husband has 
been obliged to go out on business for an hour, but he 
will be back to lunch ; and meantime I must introduce 
myself and tell you how charmed we both are to wel- 
come you. I can scarcely feel that you are a stranger, 
because Charlie has told me so much about you.” 
Then she turned to Eva with a smile. “ What a little 
darling ! ” she exclaimed, as she stooped to kiss the child. 

I’m so glad. Captain Herbert, that you have brought 


236 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


her. Come near the fire, dear; I am sure you must be 
cold after that long, bleak journey.” 

“I’m not very cold, thank you,” said Eva. “A kind 
porter gave papa and me a tin box full of hot water to 
put our feet upon, so we felt quite nice and comfurble.” 

The pretty young lady led her to a big easy-chair by 
the fire and unfastened her cloak. “ Fm so glad you have 
brought your little girl, Captain Herbert,” she repeated, 
turning to him ; “ Fm devoted to children, and she’s such 
a pet — I never saw such a lovely child ! ” 

But Captain Herbert was not so glad he had brought 
his little girl when he heard Mrs. Meredith’s unwise 
words. He knew that Eva’s chief beauty and charm 
lay in her utter unconsciousness, and he had hoped that 
she might still retain that unconsciousness for many 
years. 

It would be well if we hesitated before spoiling the 
sweet innocence of childhood ; it is too easily done — a 
careless, flattering speech or look is enough, and it is a 
thing which once lost can never be regained. I know 
no sadder sight than a vain, self-conscious child, a pigmy 
edition of the airs and affectations of its elders. 

Mrs. Meredith was still caressing Eva and calling her 
“a little angel ” and “a sweet pet,” when Julia trotted 
into the room wagging her stumpy tail vigorously and 
uttering short yelps of satisfaction at having discovered 
the whereabouts of her little mistress. Poor Julia had 
been sent down to the servants’ quarters under Mollie’s 
care — a proceeding to which she strongly objected, and 
at the first opportunity she had escaped the maid’s vigil- 
ance and rushed upstairs. 

As the bulldog entered the room Mrs. Meredith 
shrank back in some alarm, and it must be owned that 
Julia’s appearance was certainly not prepossessing; but 


LONDON TOWN. 


237 


the young lady .was soon reassured when she saw how 
gentle and affectionate the big dog was with Eva, and 
how fond of each other the child and animal evidently 
were. 

Captain Herbert apologized to Mrs. Meredith for in- 
troducing Julia into her establishment, and asked her if 
he should banish the dog to the servants’ quarters, but 
she good-naturedly declared that she did not mind Julia 
at all and was glad Eva had brought her. 

“ I like dogs,” she said, “ and I’ve no doubt we shall 
soon be friends.” 

“Julia is very friendly,” said Eva, anxious that her pet 
should make a good impression. “ Now, Julia, you 
must shake hands with this lady. She is very kind, and 
is going to let you stay in her buful house. Julia can 
shake hands ever so .well,” she explained to Mrs. Mere- 
dith ; “ the ogre taughted her when she Was a tiny little 
puppy.” 

It was very funny to see the big bulldog laboriously 
raise herself on to her haunches and then flap one paw 
feebly in the air. Mrs. Meredith was much amused by 
the performance ; she laughed a great deal, and told Eva 
that Julia was as clever as a circus dog, which pleased 
the little girl very much. 

Then Mrs. Meredith and Captain Herbert talked for a 
few moments on subjects that did not interest Eva, who 
preferred watching the manoeuvres of the little gold-fish 
that resided in a large glass bowl in the window to 
listening to their conversation. They were most enter- 
taining were those gold-fish, and they dashed and 
splashed about in the water in great style and with an 
immense expenditure of energy, and Eva watched them 
with no small interest. “ I s’pose they’re sardines,” 
she said to herself, for those were the only small fish she 


238 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


had seen. How much happier they look now than they 
do when they’re packed tight in a tin box and smothered 
with nasty oil. Poor things ! they’re so pretty I think 
it’s very unkind to kill them.” 

“ Come, pet,” said Mrs. Meredith, putting her hand 
on the little girl’s shoulder at this moment, “ and I will 
show you your room. By the time you have taken off 
your walking things luncheon will be ready, and I am 
sure you must be hungry after your long journey.” 

It was a large and very prettily furnished bedroom 
that had been prepared for Eva. The predominating 
color was pale blue, and the furniture was white and 
gold. On the walls were some nice engravings and a 
few water-colors. A cheerful wood fire burned in the 
grate and cast a ruddy glow upon the scene. 

Eva admired the room very much. “ I never went 
away from home to stay before,” she confided to Mrs. 
Meredith ; “ but I think I shall like it very much. This 
is such a pretty house, and you are so buful and so kind 
that I’m sure I shall love you. You are the bufullest 
lady I’ve ever seen, ’cept Mrs. Smith.” 

Mrs. Meredith felt pleased, as who would fail to feel 
at a child’s innocent and artless admiration. “ You are 
a dear little girl, and I am quite certain I shall love 
you ! ” she exclaimed, stooping to kiss the child’s earnest 
face. “ And who is Mrs. Smith, dear? ” 

“ I don’t know if I ought to tell you,” said Eva, look- 
ing perplexed. “ But I will ask papa if I may. I 
should like to tell you about her very much,” she added 
wistfully. 

Mrs. Meredith looked rather surprised at this speech, 
but with ready tact she changed the subject by showing 
Eva the adjoining dressing-room in which Mollie was to 
sleep. 


LONDON TOWN. 


239 


“ You will like to have your maid near you at night,” 
she said ; “ for I daresay you will feel nervous in a 
strange house.” 

“ What does nervous mean, please ? ” asked Eva. 

“ Well — timid — frightened.” 

“Oh no. I’m never frightened at night,” said the 
little girl. “ You see I know I’m just as safe at night as 
I am in the day. When I feel at all funny I say to my- 
self, ‘ God is taking care of me,’ and then I feel quite 
happy.” 

Mrs. Meredith looked down earnestly at the thought- 
ful face of the child. “ Did your father teach you 
that ? ” she asked. 

“ No, grandfather did. I’ve always lived with grand- 
father, you know, and he’s taughted me everything.” 

“ He must be a good man,” remarked Mrs. Meredith. 

“ Oh, he’s ever such a good gentleman ! ” exclaimed 
the little girl earnestly. 

A few moments later a tap sounded on the door of 
the room, and the rosy-cheeked Mollie entered carrying 
a small hamper containing new-laid eggs, fresh butter, 
and such country delicacies. 

“ Oh, I had quite forgotten the hamper,” cried Eva, 
turning to Mrs. Meredith. “ It is for you, with grand- 
father’s love — no, not love, some other word — com — 
com — (:<?;;/prements ; that’s it. Grandfather thought 
you would ’joy some eggs, ’cos he says it’s difficult to 
get eggs in London.” 

“ It is very kind of your grandfather to send me such 
a charming hamper, dear,” said Mrs. Meredith ; “ and 
you must be sure to tell him how delighted I am with 
it.” 

“ Why don’t the London hens lay eggs, I wonder ? ” 
said Eva thoughtfully. “ Do you think it is ’cos the fog 


240 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER, 


makes them sulky? When our hens at home don’t lay 
Dickie say it’s ’cos the dull weather makes them sulky.” 

Mrs. Meredith laughed. “ I don’t know if the fog’s to 
blame, but certainly the eggs in London are very bad,” 
she said. “ Now I will leave you to prepare for luncheon, 
dear. When you are ready, come down to the drawing- 
room ; you will find me there.” 

Eva had a great deal to tell Mollie while that young 
person brushed her hair and changed her frock; and 
Mollie herself was in an unusually genial and talkative 
mood. She had much to say about ” Jeames,” the 
tall footman, who, she informed Eva, was “ a very 
superior young man ; ” and Eva, who looked upon him 
as John’s brother, took quite an interest in the 
subject. 

When she was ready for lunch Eva went down- 
stairs, with Julia closely following her. She had 
reached the first landing when a door opened and Mrs. 
Meredith came out and called to her. 

” Come and see my baby, little Eva,” she said. “Do 
you like babies ? I suspect you prefer dolls, and if you 
do I commend your taste,” she added laughingly. 

She led Eva into a large and cosy nursery where an 
old nurse sat in a low chair by the fire with the baby 
on her lap. “ I have brought a visitor to see baby, 
nursey,” said Mrs. Meredith. “ Eva, this is my old 
nurse who used to take care of me when I was as 
young as you are, and now she has the charge of my 
little boy.” 

Eva looked with grave interest at the baby. He 
was a pretty little thing with dark, bright eyes and a 
rosebud mouth. 

“ Well, what do you think of him, missy?” asked the 
old nurse, smiling at the child’s earnest face. 


LONDON TOWN 


241 


He is very nice,” said Eva ; “ but it’s rather a pity 
he’s bald, isn’t it. It will be so cold for him having a 
bald head all his life, poor little thing,” she added pityingly. 

The old nurse and Mrs. Meredith looked at each other 
and laughed. 

“ Baby will soon have a fine head of hair, dear,” Mrs. 
Meredith explained to Eva. And some teeth too, but 
he’s not old enough yet — he’s very young, you see.” 

“ I s’pose he’s nine days old, isn’t he ? ” Eva asked. 
“Yes, he must be, ’cos his eyes are wide open.” 

“What do you mean, dear?” Mrs. Meredith asked, 
looking puzzled. 

“ The little pussies at home can’t see till they’re nine 
days old,” said Eva. 

“ Oh, but babies are different ; they can see directly 
they are born,” cried Mrs. Meredith, laughing. 

“That’s a good thing,” the little girl remarked quite 
gravely ; “ I always feel sorry for the kittens, ’cos it must 
be so dull for them to be blind. May I give the baby 
a kiss? or will the red paint on his face come off? 
Once when I was little grandfather gave me a baby doll, 
and it was very pretty, but when I kissed it all the nice 
red paint came off its face and it didn’t look pretty any 
more.” 

“ You may safely kiss this baby,” Mrs. Meredith told 
her, laughing ; “ the rouge is guaranteed not to come off 
his cheeks.” 

“ That’s very nice,” said Eva ; “ I s’pose you bought 
him at a good shop ? ” 

“You are the funniest little girl I have ever met!” 
Mrs. Meredith exclaimed, and both she and the old nurse 
laughed so much that Eva decided they must be very 
merry people. 

“ Come, little woman,” said Mrs. Meredith, “ I hear the 
16 


242 THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 

luncheon gong, and I expect your father is waiting for 
us.” 

As they went downstairs to the dining-room a tall 
gentleman came into the hall. He had a good-natured, 
merry face and a loud cheerful voice. 

“ Hullo, Hilda !” he called out, “ who have you got 
there ? One of the little old-world ladies out of Kate 
Greenaway’s picture-book, eh ? ” 

“ She is Captain Herbert’s little girl, Charlie,” said 
Mrs. Meredith. “ Isn’t she a darling ? Eva, this is my 
husband ; when he was a little boy he used to stay at 
Lavender Rectory, and he will like to hear all you can 
tell him about your home.” 

“ Grandfather told me about you,” Eva said, as she 
shook hands with the tall gentleman. “ He says you 
are a very brave soldier, and have won a lot of medals. 
Will you show them to me one day, please ? ” 

‘‘ Of course he will,” said Mrs. Meredith. “ They’re 
splendid medals, Eva, and I’m very proud of them, be- 
cause they show what a brave soldier my soldier is. I 
could not be prouder of them if I won them myself ! ” 
At luncheon Eva chatted away to Colonel Meredith in 
her friendly, confiding fashion. Although she had lived 
such a quiet, secluded life, the little girl did not know 
the meaning of the word shyness. She treated every one 
she met as a friend ; and her sweet, confiding manner and 
gentle earnestness charmed all hearts. 

Colonel Meredith was greatly entertained by his little 
visitor. He was a very cheerful, good-natured man, and 
fond of children ; and he took an especial interest in this 
only child of his dearest and most valued friend. 

“ You have never been to London before? ” he asked 
Eva. “ No, I thought not. Well, we must do our best 
to show you all the sights little people like — Madame 


LONDON TOWN 


243 


Tussaud’s, and the Zoological Gardens, and the Crystal 
Palace, and so on, and we must take you to see the 
pantomime at Drury Lane. She would enjoy that, eh, 
Hilda ? ” he said turning to his wife. 

“Yes, I am sure she will,” said pretty Mrs. Meredith; 
“ and so shall I. Of all delightful things I think a good 
pantomime’s the most delightful. This afternoon, while 
you, Charlie, are talking to Captain Herbert, I am going 
to take Eva out on a shopping excursion with me. I 
think she will like to see the pretty things at Cremer’s 
and at Buzzard’s, and I’m sure we shall find plenty to 
amuse us.” 

Both Colonel Meredith and his wife were full of plans 
for the amusement of their little guest. Eva thought in 
her simple way how good it was of them to be so kind 
to a little girl. She was very grateful for kindness, and 
never received it carelessly, as a sort of right, which 
some little people have a way of doing. 

After luncheon the little girl drove out with Mrs. 
Meredith in her victoria, which was drawn by a pair of 
pretty gray horses which Eva admired very much. 
“ Jeames ” sat on the box beside the coachman, and Eva 
confided to Mrs. Meredith that she was acquainted with 
his brother John who lived with the ogre. Mrs. Meredith 
seemed very much amused ; and then she asked who 
“ the ogre ” was, and Eva told her all about her invalid 
friend at The Turrets, and about Davy, who had gone to 
be one of the Queen’s soldiers, and about Dickie, and 
little Joe, and Tommy, and the puppies ; and the young 
lady listened with great interest. 

They drove to several very pretty shops in Regent 
Street and Bond Street. Mrs. Meredith made a great 
number of purchases, and Eva bought a charmingly fitted 
writing-desk as a Christmas present for Dickie, a gay 


244 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


silk scarf for old Philip the gardener, and a box of 
chocolate creams for Julia, who was particularly fond of 
that sweetmeat They finished their expedition by a visit 
to Cremer’s toy shop, where Mrs Meredith presented Eva 
with a beautifully-dressed baby doll that was quite as big 
as the real baby, and had a splendid wig of golden hair 
and a set of pearly teeth. Altogether it was a charming 
afternoon, and it was small wonder that Eva enjoyed it 

She recounted her adventures to her father while he 
was getting ready for dinner, and Captain Herbert listened 
rather gravely. He knew that this was all a great change 
to Eva, and he was half afraid that his simple little girl 
would run the risk of being spoiled during her visit to 
London. He doubted whether he had done wisely in 
bringing her with him. 

Eva’s grandfather would have been troubled with no 
such doubts. He had had more opportunities of study- 
ing the little girl’s character, and he knew that hers was 
the simple, loving heart that no outward things have the 
power to spoil, the gentle heart that, filled with its great 
sympathy for others, has no room left for selfishness. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 


Eva’s plan. 


“ Little maid, little maid, whither away. 

Running so fast on this wintry day ? 

Perhaps it’s mamma you are going to meet. 

And Love lends his wings to your little feet.” 

Mrs. Sale Barker. 

E va was very happy in London ; indeed every one 
was so kind to her, so anxious for her to be 
amused and pleased, that she could scarcely fail to be so. 

Mrs. Meredith made a great deal of her little guest, 
devoting a large portion of her time and attention to her, 
and continually inventing charming plans for her enter- 
tainment. She was a very good-natured young lady and 
naturally fond of children, and Eva had particularly taken 
her fancy. She informed all her friends that the child 
was a darling ” and “ a perfect little angel,” perfectly 
careless as to whether Eva overheard these extravagant ^ 
terms or not. And this very questionably wise conduct 
fidgeted Captain Herbert a good deal. 

Colonel Meredith petted Eva quite as much as his 
wife did. He never went out without buying the little 
girl a present — bon-bons, toys and picture-books, hot- 
house flowers and fruit, necklaces, bangles, and a number 
of other pretty things did this good-natured officer give 

( 245 ) 


246 THE LITTLE LAD Y OF LA VENDER. 

his friend’s child. Eva had never received so many 
presents in her short life, and they almost bewildered 
her. But it was Colonel Meredith’s idea of giving her 
pleasure, and she was very grateful for his kindness, 
although it rather overwhelmed her simple little mind. 

This tall colonel made a splendid playfellow, Eva 
thought. He was such a merry, good-natured gentle- 
man, so full of life and fun, and so wonderfully active for 
a ^' grown-up person.” And there was one delightful 
thing about him, which was that he never seemed to 
suffer from that distinctly grown-up disease, “ a bone in 
the leg.” And besides this, he did not mind how hot or 
how untidy he got playing at “ bear ” or blind-man’s- 
buff.” Indeed, he seemed to think that a complexion of 
peony hue, dishevelled hair, and a tumbled coat were 
quite part of the fun. Pretty Mrs. Meredith laughed, 
and told her husband that he was “ nothing more than a 
big baby.” She declared that he enjoyed a game of play 
quite as much as his little guest did — and he did not 
contradict her. 

But although every one was so kind to her, Eva had 
by no means forgotten Mrs. Smith ; indeed she con- 
stantly thought of her, and quite a dozen times in the 
day she would whisper to her father, “ Has the letter 
come yet, papa?” But the answer was ever the same, 
“ Not yet, dear.” 

Papa ” looked very grave always now, his little girl 
thought; and often she would silently slip her hand into 
his, or raise her sweet face for a kiss, and this wordless 
sympathy never failed to comfort him. 

Both Colonel Meredith and his wife did their utmost 
to cheer Captain Herbert, and the pleasant society of 
his old friend the colonel certainly did him good; but 
he looked very ill and worried, and when Eva’s blue 


EFA PLAN, 


247 


eyes wistfully sought his face the little girl looked grave 
too. 

On the morning of their third day in London Eva 
went, as was her custom, into her father’s room to wish 
him good-morning ” and to see if he were ready for 
breakfast. Captain Herbert was standing in the window 
reading a letter. He folded it quickly and put it into 
his pocket as his little girl entered ; but she had seen it, 
and she knew at once that it was the expected letter 
from Mrs. Smith. 

“ Papa dear ! ” she cried expectantly. 

Yes ; I have received the letter I expected, Eva.” 

'‘Is it all right? Is Mrs. Smith coming?” Eva 
cried very eagerly. 

Her father turned away his face as he answered in a 
low voice, “ It — the letter is unsatisfactory. To-day I 
must try to see Mrs. Smith, as you have learned to call 
her.” 

“ And then it will be all right, papa dear ? oh. Pm 
sure it will be all right ! ” said Eva quickly. But al- 
though she tried to comfort and cheer her father the 
little girl felt by no meSns hopeful herself. 

“ Mrs. Meredith ! ” she said suddenly, as she and that 
lady partook of their tea in the large and pretty drawing- 
room that afternoon, with Julia begging for cake in her 
most insinuating and graceful manner, “ Mrs. Meredith, if 
you had a little girl shouldn’t you like to live with her? ” 

Eva spoke with great earnestness, and Mrs. Meredith 
looked up quickly. “ Well, yes, dear, I think I certainly 
should,” she said in a tone of some surprise. 

“ And if you didn’t want to live with her, I s’pose it 
would be ’cos you didn’t love her ? ” Eva pursued in a 
solemn tone. 

“ But I am sure I should love her,” said Mrs. Mere- 


248 THE LITTLE LADY OP LAVENDER. 

dith. That is, unless she were a peculiarly unlovable 
child.” 

“ If I were your little girl should you love me ? ” 

Why, yes, darling, 1 am certain I should. I love 
you as it is ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Meredith, and she bent 
her pretty head and kissed Eva’s grave little face very 
kindly. 

Eva gave a wistful little sigh. “ I would like to have 
a mother of my very own,” she said, “ a sweet, buful 
mother like a lady I once knowed.” 

“And who was she?” asked Mrs. Meredith, looking 
earnestly at the innocent child face that was raised to 
hers. 

“ I’m afraid I mustn’t tell you,” said Eva regretfully, 
“’cos it’s a secret. It’s a very sad secret, and makes 
poor papa feel ever so unhappy and ser’ous, and me 
too.” 

“ Don’t cry, pet,” Mrs. Meredith said caressingly ; “ I 
can’t bear to see you.” 

“ I’m not crying ’zackly, thank you,” the little girl 
explained somewhat tremulously. “But when I’ve 
thoughted much about that secret it makes my eyes feel 
rather weak. You see I love Mrs. Smith very dearly ! ” 

“ And she must love you dearly too, darling, if she 
has the heart of a woman ! ” cried Mrs. Meredith 
quickly. “ Pride ! a noble sort of pride that must be 
which separates a mother from her own child ! ” she 
added indignantly. 

“ Oh, did I tell you the secret ? ” exclaimed Eva in 
great distress. 

“ No, my little pet, not a word of it. And now, dear 
Eva, if we are to see the pantomime to-night we must 
dress at once. Aren’t you looking forward to making 
the acquaintance of ' Puss in Boots ? ’ — / am, I assure 


£FA’S PLAN. 


249 


you. And, dear me! you’ve never seen a pantomime. 
Well, you will enjoy it.” 

“Don’t you think Julia would rather Joy it too?” 
suggested Eva, with a lingering glance at her pet. But 
Mrs. Meredith assured the little girl that she was certain 
the antics of “ Puss in Boots ” would be too much for 
Julia’s delicate nerves, and that the dear dog would 
greatly prefer a quiet evening at home. 

“ Where is Captain Herbert ? ” Mrs. Meredith asked 
her husband when, an hour later, the butler announced 
dinner. 

“ Not come in yet,” replied the colonel, glancing up 
from the game of draughts he was playing with Eva. 

“ A wild-goose chase 1 ” exclaimed pretty Mrs. Mere- 
dith half indignantly, half pityingly. 

Her husband gave her a warning look, but Eva had 
heard. 

“A wild-goose chase?” she repeated questioningly. 
“ Did papa go out shooting? I didn’t know there was 
shooting in London. I s’pose wild goose is a kind of 
London pheasant, is it ? ” 

“ It is an utterly impossible and unattainable bird, 
little woman,” Colonel Meredith explained gravely, while 
his wife turned away laughing. “ Come, Eva, we must 
go down to dinner without that unpunctual papa of 
yours or we shall miss the commencement of the pan- 
tomime.” 

Dinner was nearly over when Captain Herbert came 
in. Eva heard him cross the hall and go slowly up- 
stairs, and a few moments later Colonel Meredith, saying 
he would go and tell him to make haste, went out of 
the dining-room and left his wife and little guest to 
have dessert alone. When he returned a few moments 


250 


THE LITTLE LADY OF I.A VENDER. 


later he announced that Captain Herbert had a bad 
headache and had decided not to go to the pantomime. 

This was a great disappointment to Eva. Oh, poor 
papa ! ” she exclaimed, “ I am sorry. I thought he 
would have ’joyed the acting so much. I thought it 
would have ^mused him.” 

“ He is better at home to-night, little woman,” said 
Colonel Meredith kindly ; “ sometimes people fail to 
find amusement even in pantomimes.” 

“ May I go and say good-bye to him ? ” Eva asked. 

But Colonel Meredith explained that her father was 
very tired — very tired indeed — and would rather see no 
one — not even his little girl — for a few hours. 

“You can go and wish him good-night when we 
return, though. I daresay he will be feeling rested by 
then,” the colonel quickly added, as he noticed Eva’s 
grave expression. 

“Yes, and then you will be able to tell him all about 
the pantomime, you know,” said Mrs. Meredith cheer- 
fully. “ Come, darling, the carriage is at the door.” 
She took Eva’s hand and led her out into the hall, where 
Mollie was waiting with her little mistress’s cloak. It 
was a pretty red cloak with a hood to it, and Colonel 
Meredith laughed and called Eva “ Little Red Riding 
Hood.” 

“ I hope we shan’t meet the wolf,” he said. 

“ There aren’t any wolves in London, are there ? ” Eva 
asked gravely. 

“ Only in the Zoological Gardens ; and they are very 
well disciplined and quite refined fellows, who would not 
think of committing the impoliteness of eating up a little 
girl, even though she wore a red hood.” 

“ They haven’t got kind faces, though,” said Eva ; 
“ at least I thoughted not when I went to see them. I 


EFA’S PLAN. 


251 


liked the lions better; they have such buful hair and 
such great big voices. I a’mire their voices very much. 
There is a man in our church choir at home who has a 
loud voice called a bass, and he’s very proud of it, but 
it’s not nearly so loud as the lion’s voice.” 

'‘You think that man would feel small if he could 
hear the lions roar, eh ? ” asked Colonel Meredith, laugh- 
ing, as he lifted the little girl into the carriage. 

“ Well I don’t know,” said Eva thoughtfully. “ You 
see he’s a very big man — ever so big ! Mollie says he 
weighs fifteen stone, and that’s drefifiy heavy. So I 
don’t think he could feel very small, do you ? ” 

“ Well, perhaps not,” the colonel admitted, looking 
much entertained. 

“ He’s a brewer, you see,” Eva explained, “ and 
brewers are always fat, ’cos they eat nothing but hops. 

I know that, ’cos Dickie told me so, and he has an 
uncle who is a brewer. It must be very nasty for them, 
poor things,” she added reflectively; “for hops aren’t at 
all nice-tasting vegetables, and they must be rather dry in 
hot weather.” 

Three hours later Eva tapped lightly on the door of 
her father’s room. He rose from the writing-table at 
which he was sitting and opened the door. 

“ Oh, it is you, little woman. Come in.” 

“ Is your head better now, papa dear ? ” Eva asked 
solicitously as he stooped to kiss her bright, flushed face. 
“ I was so sorry you couldn’t come to the pantomime, 
papa. It was a pity, wasn’t it ? ” 

Captain Herbert sat down in a low chair by the fire 
and lifted his little girl up on his knee. “ Did you enjoy 
the performance, dear ? were you happy and amused ? ” 
he asked. 


252 THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 

'' Very ’mused. But, papa dear, how ill you look I 
Does your poor head hurt much ? ” 

“ Not much. I have just been writing to grandfather 
to tell him to expect us to-morrow. To-morrow is 
Christmas Eve, you know, Eva, and we promised to be 
back at the Rectory for Christmas. Shall you be sorry 
to leave London ? ” 

“ Isn’t Mrs. Smith going home with us, papa ? ” the 
little girl asked wistfully. 

He shook his head silently. 

“ You have asked her, haven’t you, papa dear?” 

I asked her in my letter, Eva.” 

“ Have you been to see her ? Have you asked her 
with your very own voice ? ” questioned the child 
earnestly. 

He smiled faintly. “ I have had no chance of asking 
her with " my very own voice,’ dear. I have not seen her.” 

Didn’t you go to her house, papa ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

‘‘ Has she gone away from London, then ? ” Eva asked 
anxiously. 

“ No, she is still in London.” 

“Then why can’t you see her, papa dear? — I can’t 
understand,” cried the little girl, looking very puzzled. 

“ Supposing she did not wish to see me, Eva.” 

“ Oh, papa, dear, Mrs. Smith is so kind. I’m sure 
she’d see you if she thoughted you wanted to see her.” 

He was silent. 

“ Are you going home without her, papa — are you ? ” 

“ I fear I shall be obliged to, Eva.” 

“ Does it make you feel very sorry, papa ? ” 

“ Very sorry, dear.” 

“ An’ so it does me ! ” cried the little girl, her blue 
eyes filling with tears. 


EVA’S PLAN. 


253 


Captain Herbert bent his head and kissed her ; his 
face was very pale and grave. “You and I must be 
all in all to each other henceforward, my little girl,” he 
said, holding her closer to him ; “ we have no one else.” 

“ Why, one of my tears has got on to your cheek, 
papa!” exclaimed Eva, looking at him anxiously let 
me kiss it away. I love you dearly, papa, you know, 
but I love Mrs. Smith too. I shall pray to God very 
hard to send her to us, and you’ll pray too, won’t you ? 
Poor papa ! dear papa, don’t look so sad, it makes me 
sad too. Do you ’member what grandfather always 
says when he’s unhappy, do you ? ” 

Her father shook his head silently. 

“ He says,” said Eva very earnestly, “ * God knows 
best’ ” 

Long after Mollie had tucked her little lady into her 
pretty bed with its pale blue hangings, and long after loud 
snores proceeding from the dressing-room had proclaimed 
that Mollie herself was asleep, Eva lay awake thinking. 

Her thoughts were not of the wonderful pantomime 
.with its splendid scenery, smartly costumed actors, 
radiant fairies, and funny harlequinade, although this 
great show had naturally made a considerable impression 
on the simple mind of the country child. Under 
ordinary circumstances Eva would certainly have fallen 
asleep to find a repetition of her evening’s enjoyment in 
the pleasant realms of the little folk’s dreamland — an en- 
chanted country that is closed and barred to the sadder 
and wiser minds of grown-up people — but this evening 
she was thinking of her father and of Mrs. Smith, and 
these two, both so dear to her affectionate little heart, 
entirely occupied her attention. 

As Eva lay watching the reflection that the lamps of 


254 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


passing carriages cast from time to time upon the white 
ceiling of the room, her thoughts formed themselves into 
an idea that rapidly developed into a plan. 

She sat up in bed, a bright eager look on her sweet 
flushed face. “ Julia,” she said, addressing the big bull- 
dog which was stretched in an attitude of luxurious ease 
on a cushion before the fire, “Julia, to-morrow you and 
me will go by our very own selves and see Mrs. Smith.” 

Julia took no notice of this address, for the good 
reason that she was soundly and comfortably asleep ; 
but the big yellow moon which was just visible between 
the slightly parted window-curtains seemed, Eva thought, 
to look at her with a most benign smile, and to the eager 
little girl this appeared a sure token of encouragement. 

Soon afterwards, being made very happy and con- 
tented by her new plan, Eva fell asleep; and as the 
bright, soft moonbeams stole into the room and fell in a 
flood of subdued radiance on the bed and the little figure 
lying there, ‘ they revealed a sweet and happy smile on 
the face of the sleeping child. 

On the following morning Eva awoke with her little 
head full of her new “ plan.” It was a plan easier made 
than carried out. 

“ I mustn’t tell papa,” thought the little girl, “ ’cos if 
I do he will be so ’spointed if Mrs. Smith doesn’t come. 
And it wouldn’t do for poor papa to be ’spointed when 
he’s so unhappy already.” 

Then she thought of taking Mrs. Meredith into her 
confidence, but she soon banished that idea. Mrs. 
Meredith didn’t know the secret, and she musn’t tell it 
to her^ so how could she understand, argued Eva. 

As for telling Mollie, that was quite out of the ques- 
tion, Mollie took no pains to conceal her dislike to 


£VA’S PLAN. 


255 


Mrs. Smith, and Eva knew that if she had the faintest 
suspicion of her “ plan ” she would do her utmost to 
prevent its being put into execution. 

So at last Eva decided that Julia was her only safe 
confidante; Julia was such a charming person to confide 
a secret to, she never breathed a word of it to a soul, 
she was as safe as the proverbial post. 

Eva was unusually silent while Mollie was dressing 
her, and she was so quiet at breakfast that Mrs. Mere- 
dith thought she must be feeling tired from the excite- 
ment of the previous night. 

“ I have to go to my dressmaker’s immediately after 
breakfast, Eva dear,” she said, “and also to several 
shops, but as you look to me rather tired I think you 
had better rest indoors this morning.” 

“ Especially as you have the railway journey home 
this afternoon,” added the colonel. “ Dear me, Eva, 
what shall I do without my playfellow ? There will be 
no more romps for me, for I can’t play at ‘ hide-and- 
seek ’ and ‘ lions ’ by myself, you know, and I am afraid 
Mrs. Meredith will never condescend to play with me.” 

“ Eva must pay us another visit very soon,” said Mrs. 
Meredith. “You must spare her to us for a few weeks 
in the spring. Captain Herbert. Eva, you would enjoy 
being in London in the warm, bright weather, and I 
should like to show you how beautiful the park is then. 
The trees and shrubs and the flowers are, I am sure, 
quite as pretty as any you could find in the country.” 

Colonel Meredith laughed and told his wife that she was 
a most devoted Londoner. “ Why, I believe you would 
try to find a good word for even the fogs,” he said. 

After breakfast Mrs. Meredith drove off in her 
pretty carriage with its smart pair of gray horses, 
and Captain Herbert went for a ride in the park with 


256 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


the colonel. Eva from the drawing-room window 
watched them start. The little girl’s face was very 
grave as she waved her hand to Mrs. Meredith — she was 
thinking about her plan. 

Mollie was busy packing, and all the servants were 
occupied, as there was to be a large dinner-party that 
evening. Eva knew that she would certainly never have 
a better opportunity for carrying out her idea. 

She went quickly upstairs to the pretty blue room 
where she slept. Her box stood open and half packed 
with things in the window, but Mollie was not there ; she 
had gone downstairs for a farewell chat with the 
fascinating “ Jeames.” 

Eva managed to pull open the door of the tall 
wardrobe, the handle of which she could only reach by 
standing on tiptoe ; then she had to clamber right into 
the cupboard in order to get her cloak, which, hung up 
on a high peg, seemed at first quite unattainable to the 
little girl, but was at last secured. 

When she had safely regained the floor and had 
put on the little gray cloak, she could find her boots 
nowhere, and a long search had to be made for them. 
And when at last they were discovered, that most 
necessary article a button-hook appeared to have taken 
flight, and a long search for that ensued. 

By the time Eva had succeeded in finding all her 
walking things and in putting them on — which she 
found no easy matter when unassisted by Mollie — the 
little girl felt quite hot and breathless. 

But it would never do to rest just then, she thought 
— Mollie might come upstairs at any moment ! This 
thought was very alarming, and Eva quickly opened the 
door and ran downstairs to the drawing-room to fetch 
Julia. 


EVA’S ELAN. 


2S7 


Julia was comfortably asleep by the fire, and didn’t 
appear at all anxious to go out. Eva had to call to her 
a great many times before she would get up, and at last 
she felt it her duty to be quite severe with her. “ I’m 
afraid you’re getting selfish, Julia,” she said, “and no 
one loves selfish dogs. You wouldn’t like me to go out 
alone while you lie by the fire, would you ? ” 

Julia stretched her legs and shook herself awake with 
evident reluctance. Then Eva attached the leash to her 
collar and led her away downstairs and through the 
hall, and very unwilling to go Julia looked. 

The hall door presented a new difficulty. Eva did 
not in the least understand the various patent fastenings 
that secured it ; they seemed to her very complicated. 
She was terribly afraid that Mollie would appear while 
she was struggling with them, or that one of the other 
servants would cross the hall and prevent her going out. 
Julia too was tiresome, she would patter about, and sniff 
loudly, and rattle her collar, and Eva was afraid the 
noise she made would soon attract attention. 

Suddenly, and in a very startling manner, the door flew 
open. Eva had accidentally pressed the right spring. 

The little girl lost no time in going out on the steps, 
and she drew the heavy door together after her. It 
closed with a loud thud; and as she heard it Eva 
realized that she was alone in London. Her heart sank 
a little at the thought, for she was only a country child, 
and the metropolis was a world of mystery to her simple 
mind, but she never hesitated in carrying out her plan. 
She possessed a brave and loving little heart, this tiny 
girl of seven summers, who, in her quaint gray cloak 
and broad-brimmed hat that was tied with a ribbon under 
the chin in a pretty old-world fashion, looked little more 
than a baby. 

17 


CHAPTER XXVIL 


MR. BOBBY AND “LUCKY SAM.” 

“ Have pity, children, on the poor. 

Their days are full of woe ; 

They have few clothes, so little food, 

No home where they can go.” 

Mrs. Sale Barker. 

E va set off valiantly down the square, leading the 
reluctant Julia, and repeating to Jierself Mrs. 

Smith’s address — “ 25 M Square, 25 M Square. 

I wonder if it’s far away ? ” said the little girl to herself. 
“ Papa says London town’s a ’normous big place, so 
p’r’aps it’s quite a long way to Mrs. Smith’s house.” * 
She felt rather serious as she pictured to herself the 
very many streets and squares that she might have to 
pass through before she arrived at Mrs. Smith’s home. 
She began to wonder how she should ever find her 
way. She hoped that the name of the square would be 
written up at the corner, like it was in the square in 
which Mrs. Meredith lived. If not, how should she 
ever know it? This was indeed a serious consideration, 
and Eva’s little face grew very grave, but very deter- 
mined too. 

“ Come along, Julia dear,” she said encouragingly to 
that rather injured-looking personage, who was pro- 
gressing at her slowest and most lurching pace, and 
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MR. BOBB Y AND LUCKY SAM. 


259 


was evidently feeling extremely cross ; come along, 
Julia; we shall soon be there.” 

But Julia looked as though she knew better, and 
wasn’t going to be deluded by any such rash promises. 

At the corner of the square in which Mrs. Meredith 
lived stood a tall and portly policeman engaged in 
amicable converse with a smart maidservant who was 
supposed to be occupied in cleaning the brass plate on 
her master’s door. Eva remembered that on the pre- 
vious day when she had gone for a walk in Kensington 
Gardens with her maid, Mollie had appealed to a police- 
man for guidance ; so she walked up to the tall officer 
who was conversing so sweetly with his friend the house- 
maid and politely addressed him. 

“ If you please, Mr. Bobby,” said the little girl, will 
you show me the way to M Square ? ” 

Now Mollie always alluded to the police force as 
them bobbies,” and Eva thought that “ Mr. Bobby ” 
must be the polite and correct form in which to address 
one of its members ; so she could not understand the 
subdued smile that broke over the good-humored coun- 
tenance of Sergeant 7195 as he looked down from the 
commanding height of six-foot-three at the grave face 
of the little lady. 

‘‘ You’re a long way from M Square, missy,” he 

said, “a rare long way. You’d best get into the bus, I 
think.” 

“ Lawks ! yes,” chimed in the smart maidservant. 
“ It’s far too long a walk for a little lady like you. 
Why, it’d take her all day to get there, wouldn’t it 
now ? ” she asked, turning to the policeman. 

“ Pretty near, I should say,” answered “ Mr. Bobby.” 
If you’ll go in the bus, missy, there’s one passes along 
the next street and I’ll see you into it.” . 


26 o 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


What is a bus, please ? ” Eva asked rather anxiously. 

“ Bless the innocent child ! ” ejaculated the house- 
maid. “ What is a bus ! There now, I wonder at folks 
letting such a little 'un out alone — that I do ! ” 

“A bus is a public conveyance, miss, which, if you 
like to come along o’ me. I’ll show you,” said the police- 
•man kindly. 

“ Thank you, Mr. Bobby,” said Eva gratefully. 
“They’ll let Julia go in the bus too, won’t they?” she 
asked with renewed anxiety. 

The policeman looked round. “ Why, there ain’t 
another little lady, is there ? ” he asked. 

“ Oh no; Julia is my little dog,” Eva explained. 

“Mr. Bobby” and the housemaid looked at Julia’s 
substantial form and huge head and laughed. 

“Well, I never ; a fine animal,” said Mr. Bobby. 

“ Yes, she has taken five prizes at shows,” said Eva 
eagerly. “ The ogre gived her to me, and she and me 
is ever so ’voted to each other.” 

“ Well, we must try to persuade the omnibus con- 
ductor to take her too, I suppose,” said the tall police- 
man good-naturedly. 

“ Oh, thank you, Mr. Bobby,” said Eva. “ What a 
kind gentleman you are.” She put her hand confidingly 
into his, and the tall policeman and the little girl, with 
Julia at their heels, walked side by side down the street. 

“ Have you ever been to the pantomime, Mr. Bobby ? ” 
Eva asked, raising her blue eyes inquiringly to his ruddy 
countenance, and speaking in a friendly and confidential 
tone. 

Mr. Bobby replied Yes, he had been to the panto- 
mime, treated his young woman to the pit and an oyster 
supper afterwards, and a rare show it was this year. 

“ There was a bobby on the stage,” said Eva, “ and 


MR. BOBB Y AND «Z UCKY SAM. » 261 

the clown was very unkind to him, did you notice ? The 
clown’s a very rude sort of gentleman, don’t you think ? 
He’s always playing jokes and teasing people, and he 
treated that poor bobby ever so horridly.” 

“ They always makes fun of us, miss,” said Sergeant 
7195. ''We don’t mind; we’re above minding it,” he 
added with a superior smile. 

“That’s very nice of you,” said Eva in an admiring 
tone. “ I s’pose it is ’cos you’ve such a kind heart you 
don’t like to be cross to anybody. That’s very nice.” 

“ Here’s the omnibus, missy,” said the policeman. 
“ I’ll put you in, shall I ? ” 

“ Yes, please,” said Eva politely. . “ And will you tell 
the driver where to take me to — will you give him the 
’dress ? ” 

“ Ay, it’ll be all right,” the policeman assured her ; and 
then he gently lifted her up in his strong arms and car- 
ried her across the muddy road and put her safely into 
the omnibus. He would have also lifted Julia into that 
conveyance, but Julia was of an independent turn of 
mind, and when he attempted to touch her she showed 
her independence by a low and surly growl and jumped 
up the steps by herself. 

“ She’s not ungrateful,” Eva earnestly assured the 
policeman, whose feelings, she feared, might have been 
hurt by Julia’s conduct; “she’s only rather shy with 
strangers.” 

The conductor sounded his bell, and the omnibus 
began to move. Eva sprang to the door and held out 
her little gray-gloved hand to the friendly policeman. 

“ Good-bye, Mr. Bobby,” she said in her sweet, polite 
way ; “ I’m ever so ’bliged to you ! Thank you very much.” 

“ Good-morning, missy ; I hope you’ll get along all 
right,” responded Mr. Bobby. 


262 


THE LITTLE LAD Y OF LA VENDER. 


As she watched him turn away and recross the muddy 
road Eva felt that she had lost a friend. He was such 
a kind gentleman,” she said to herself with a little 
sigh. 

Eva looked round the omnibus with great interest, 
for she had never been in one before. It was tightly 
packed with people, chiefly ladies, and every one seemed 
to be laden with packets and parcels, as is generally 
noticeable just at Christmas time. The packets and parcels 
took a great deal of room, and there being no vacant 
seat for Julia she had to sit on the floor. She was per- 
fectly quiet and unobtrusive, resting her big head against 
her little mistress’s knee and never attempting to growl 
at the other passengers as they brushed past her get- 
ting in and out of the conveyance, but her presence was 
a source of great annoyance to a fat old lady who sat 
opposite to her. To thas old lady Julia appeared a ter- 
rific and dangerous monster, and she watched her as care- 
fully as a cat watches a mouse. She would not have been 
in the least surprised if Julia had simply opened her large 
mouth and swallowed up omnibus, passengers, and all ; 
she thought that there was nothing too dreadful for this 
terrible-looking dog to accomplish. At last this old 
lady’s nerves got the better of her altogether. She had 
seen Julia wink an eyelash, and she was certain that this 
movement was only the prelude to some direful deed, 
and that in another instant “ that awful dog ” would do 
something dangerous, so she hopped up and began to 
beat the conductor’s shoulder with her en-tout-cas to call 
his attention (which is a little habit some ladies have, 
and a very uncomfortable habit the conductor, poor man, 
must find it). 

“ Conductor ! conductor ! ” screamed the old lady, 
stop the bus — stop the bus this very instant!'' 


MR. BOBB Y AND “Z UCKY SAM. ” 263 

All right, mum ; all right ! ” cried the conductor, 
dodging away from the rapidly descending en-tout-cas. 

“ Now,” said the old lady, addressing the conductor 
when the omnibus had stopped, now I must insist upon 
your at once removing that dangerous dog” — she 
pointed to Julia — “or I shall write a letter to the Com- 
pany on the subject.” 

“ The dawg must go, miss, since the lady objicts to 
it,” said the conductor, who was left no choice in the 
matter. 

“ Oh, please let her stay,” cried Eva throwing her 
arms about her pet, and turning a pretty, pleading face 
to the indignant old lady. “ Pl^se let her stay. She 
wiW be quite good ; she won’t move. She won’t, indeed ! ” 

A murmur of sympathy ran round the omnibus ; 
every one was in favor of the pretty little girl and her pet. 

“ Really, madam,” said an intrepid gentleman, address- 
ing the old lady, “ I think the dog has inconvenienced 
no one. He seems to me to be perfectly quiet.” 

“ Really, sir,” exclaimed the old lady, blazing round 
on him, “ I think you’d better learn to mind your own 
business.” 

“ If you will let Julia and me stay till we get to 

M Square,” said Eva, lifting her anxious blue eyes 

to the angry, crimson countenance of the offended lady, 
“ I shall be ever so ’bliged. I’m going to see my 
mother, and if I have to walk Mr. Bobby says it will 
take me all day to get to her house, and I don’t know 
the way at all. Please let us stay. We won’t disturb 
any one, I promise.” 

Most people would have found it difficult to resist 
that pleading childish voice, that innocent baby face, 
but apparently the fat old lady experienced no trouble 
in doing so. 


264 the little lady OF LAVENDER, 

“Turn her out at once,” she said sharply to the con- 
ductor ; “ people havn’t any business to bring their horrid 
dangerous dogs into public conveyances.” 

Eva’s eyes filled with tears. She could not bear to 
hear poor Julia so unkindly spoken of, and she felt that 
her pet had not deserved the old lady’s harsh words. 
And how was she to find her way when she was turned 
out of the friendly shelter of the “bus?” the little girl 
wondered. How would she know which way to go ? 

“ Come along, missy,” said the conductor. He lifted 
her out not unkindly, and Julia sprang out after her 
mistress. The fat old lady sank back into her place to 
enjoy her triumph how she might, the conductor rang his 
bell, and the omnibus lumbered away, leaving Eva and 
Julia in the middle of crowded Oxford Street. 

Eva felt as though she had alighted in a perfect sea 
of cabs and carriages and horses. Confused and be- 
wildered, the child stood quite still in the centre of the 
busy street, with her big dog crouching timidly at her 
side, for Julia was a country-bred personage, and this 
was her first introduction to the noise and tumult of the 
metropolis. 

In a moment a hand grasped Eva’s and quickly led 
her through the crowd of vehicles and horses to the 
safer footpath. 

“ It don’t do to stand a-thinkin’ in the middle o’ 
a Lunnon street, little missy,” said a shrill but not un- 
pleasant voice. 

Eva, still half bewildered, looked at the person who 
had thus come to her assistance. He was a boy of 
about Dickie’s size, but not at all like that plump and 
well-fed youth in appearance ; an out-at-elbows — and 
out-at-knees too, for the matter of that — little lad, with a 
pale, sharp face and a tangled shock of fair hair. 


MR, BOBB Y AND LUCKY SAM, ” 265 

I wasn’t thinking,” said the little girl, “ but I didn’t 
know what to do. All those carriages and horses 
hurried along so, and I didn’t know how to get past 
them. Thank you, kind boy, for helping me,” she added 
graciously. 

” Oh, it’s a matter o’ no consekence,” he replied non- 
chalantly. ” Where be you goin’ now, little lady ? ’cos 
I’ll see you over the next crossin’.” 

” I’m going to M Square,” she answered. Is it 

far to M Square, little boy ? ” 

“ Well, I guess a little lady like you would find it far,” 
he said. “ D’ye know where the Hedgeware Road is ? ” 

Eva shook her head. ” I don’t know any road called 
that,” she replied in an anxious tone. 

” D’ye hail from the country, missy ? ” the boy asked. 

” I don’t know about hail,” said Eva, looking puzzled ; 

but I live in the country, and papa and I have come to 
London town for a visit.” 

” I thought you wasn’t no Londoner,” her new ac- 
quaintance remarked. “Well, look here, little lady. I’ll 
show yer as far as Hedgeware Road ; trade’s slack this 
morning, uncommon slack, and not a blessed ha’p’ny 
have I took yet.” 

“ Thank you very much,” Eva said gratefully. “ What 
is your trade, please ? ” 

“ My perfession is that of a crossin’-s weeper, and a un- 
common bad perfession it is,” he replied, swinging the 
birch broom he carried. 

“ It must be a very cold — per — perression,” Eva re- 
marked rather timidly, as she glanced at the poor, bare, 
blue feet of the little crossing-sweeper. 

“ I believe you,” he said feelingly. 

“ Poor boy ! ” said the little girl in a soft, pitying tone ; 
“ poor boy ! ” 


266 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


A mist gathered in his eyes as he looked into her 
sweet face. “ Bless your kind little ’eart, missy,” he 
said, “ tain’t often as any one says a word o’ pity to me. 

* Lazy little beggar,’ they says ; ‘ oughter go to a reform- 
atory ; these street arabs is a reg’lar noosance a-whining 
round and a-pesterin’ folk,’ they says. And if you axes 
’em for a copper it’s ‘ Be off, boy, or I’ll send the 
pleeceman arter yer.’ That’s what the rich coves says, 
little lady.” 

” I will give you some pennies,” said Eva eagerly ; 
“ I have a lot in my little purse that the ogre gived me.” 
She put her hand into her pocket, but the boy hurriedly 
stopped her. 

“ I don’t want your money,” he said almost roughly. 
“ I ain’t showin’ yer the way fur no money.” 

“ It is very kind of you to show me,” Eva said ; “ I’m 
ever so ’bliged to you.” 

“ How come you to be out all alone, little lady ? ” he 
asked, as they walked along the .street side by side — 
the child of wealth, and love, and care, in her dainty 
hat and cloak with its luxurious fur trimmings ; and the 
child of poverty, and ill-usage, and neglect, with his bare 
head and feet, and poor rags, and stunted, ill-fed body — 
a contrast to the eye of man, but alike precious to him 
whose love embraces every one of his children, be they 
rich or poor, and in whose sight they are all equal. 

How came you to be alone ? ” the little crossing- 
sweeper asked. 

“ I am going to my mother,” Eva answered ; ‘‘ her 

house is in M Square. Are you tired, little boy ? 

You look so pale.” 

** I ain’t tired,” he answered ; “ leastways not more 
than usual, but I’m mighty ’ongry. I ginrally am 
’ongry, though.” 


MR. BOBBY AND LUCKY SAM.^* 267 

How dreffniy Xho. little girl said. That is why you 
are so thin, I s’pose. Oh, poor little boy ! ” Her blue 
eyes filled with sympathetic tears. 

But Eva possessed a practical as well as sympathetic 
mind, and as they were passing a confectioner’s a bright 
idea occurred to her. She caught hold of her little 
companion’s grimy hand and led him into the shop. 
Poor lad ! how his hungry eyes glistened when he saw 
the tempting display of cakes and buns hot from the 
baker’s oven. 

“ Sit down,” said Eva authoritatively, and gently 
pushed the boy into a chair. ” What would you like 
best ? ” she asked anxiously. 

But the little crossing-sweeper seemed to have lost 
his tongue in the presence of the fine ladies with big 
tously fringes and very small waists who presided be- 
hind the counter. Eva was not afraid of them though, 
for she possessed unlimited faith in the goodness and 
kindness of everybody. 

If you please,” she said, addressing an elderly dame 
who, she thought, had a particularly kind face, “ if you 
please will you give this poor boy something very hot 
and nice? — some nice beef-tea, I should think. I will 
pay for it. Here is my purse ; you can take as many 
pennies as you want,” and she held out the neat little 
porte-monnaie of crocodile leather with silver mountings 
that was one of the master of The Turrets’ many 
presents. 

But the woman put the purse back into the little 
lady’s hand. You can pay for the soup when the boy 
has had it, miss,” she said. I will get him some nice 
gravy soup immediately. Will you take anything 
yourself, miss ? ” 

“ No, thank you,” said Eva. She felt too anxious to 


268 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDEE. 


eat. She was thinking about Mrs. Smith and wondering 

when she should get to M Square. It seemed to 

be a very difficult place to arrive at, the little girl thought, 
and presently, glancing at the big clock over the counter, 
she saw to her surprise that the short hand pointed to 
three o’clock. She had not imagined that it was so late. 

The little crossing-sweeper swallowed the steaming 
gravy soup with hungry avidity, and after that he ate a 
large roll of bread and two buns. 

Eva waited for him very patiently, anxious though she 
was to get on her way. “ Poor little boy,” she thought, 
how dreffly hungry he must be to eat in such a hurry. 

I hope he won’t choke himself.” Fearful of this ca- 
tastrophe, she watched him with grave anxiety, and it was 
quite a relief to her when he finished his meal. By this 
time Julia had consumed several oyster patties, and 
looked very amiable. Julia had a little weakness for 
good things — in fact, she was rather a gourmand, and, 
like a good many people, she was always in a good 
humor after dinner. 

Eva paid for the various refreshments, and then this . 
oddly assorted little trio, the two children and the dog, 
left the warm confectioner’s shop and walked quickly 
along Oxford street in the direction of Edgeware Road. 
It was a great satisfaction to Eva to be once more on 
her way to Mrs. Smith’s house, and she hurried along at 
such a pace that Julia had to break into a trot to keep 
up with her. 

The little crossing-sweeper was greatly delighted 
with the wonderful dinner he had had. “ My, that soup 
ivere good ! ” he said smacking his lips. “ I nivver tasted 
the like, no, not even at the Christmas dinner they once 
give to the poor children down at Stoke Noointon. I’ve 
nivver tasted soup since,” he added. 


MR. BOBBY AND LUCKY SAM: 


269 


I'm glad you liked it,” Eva said, looking pleased. 
Do you know, I thoughted there were no poor people 
in London town. Dickie said all the people were very 
rich, and that the streets were paved with gold. I 'spect 
Dickie made a mistake.” 

‘‘ I giss he did ! ” exclaimed her new acquaintance. 
“ There’s 'eaps and 'eaps of pore folk in Lunnon, little 
lady, and lots of boys and gals too, as hasn’t never enough 
to eat. I’m often that ’ongry I could swaller ha7iythin\ 
no matter what. It’s a orful thing is ’onger, missy.” 

“ What is your name, little boy ? ” 

“ My name’s Sam, little lady. ' Lucky Sam,’ they 
calls me; but why I dunno, ’cos I nivver has no luck — 
nivver ; leastways I never noticed it.” ^ 

“ Are your father and mother very poor ? ” Eva asked 
gently. 

They’re dead,” said the boy. “ My mother died 
when I were a little ’un, and my father — I don’t know 
when he died ; I never seed him.” 

“ And do you live quite by yourself? Poor boy, how 
lonely you must feel ! ” 

I giss I’m used to it, little lady ; I don’t keer much. 
I never chum up with the other lads, ’cos they’re a bad- 
dish crew down our way, and I promised little Jennie as 

I’d not steal and thieve; but ” He stopped short 

as he looked at the innocent, childish face raised 
anxiously to his. 

Who is little Jennie ? ” Eve asked gently. 

“ Her were a little gal as were a friend o' mine,” said 
the boy huskily. She used to sell vi’lets, and when 
there warn’t none she’d sell matches. She were a cripple 
through bein’ dropped when a babby. She’s dead now.” 
Tears started to his eyes and he turned his face away, 
I misses her a good bit,” he said simply. 


270 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER, 


Eva stretched out her neatly gloved little hand and 
clasped his cold and grimy one. “ Don’t cry, poor boy,” 
she said. “ If Jennie’s dead she’s gone to heaven, and 
she will be so happy there — quite well and strong always, 
and never cold and hungry any more ! ” 

She were a good little girl,” said the boy. “ She’d 
never steal and tell lies like t’other gals, and she’d never 
■fight. Her and me were rare friends, we wur. She had 
a sweet, innercent face,” he added, looking earnestly at 
Eva. “You minds me on her, little lady; only you’re 
well and so grandly dressed, and she were ivver so thin, 
poor little gal, and her frock were all ragged and torn ; 
but somehow you minds me of her.” 

“ I’m glad I ’mind you of her,” Eva said simply. “ I 
wish I had known Jennie ; I’m sure I should have loved 
her. But don’t be unhappy any more, poor Lucky Sam, 
’cos she’s very happy in heaven, you know.” 

“ That’s the place they tells ’un of at the ragged 
school,” said the boy. “ I guess it’s a long way from 
London, little lady ? ” he asked wistfully. 

Eva looked puzzled. “I don’t know if heaven is 
farther from London than from the country — p’r’aps it 
is,” she said thoughtfully. 

“ I giss it is, ’cos every one’s so wicked in Lunnon,” 
said Lucky Sam quickly. 

“ Oh, but there are good people in London town as 
well as bad ! ” Eva objected. 

“ Yes, there’s the folk as gives the pore children’s 
dinners,” the boy admitted. 

“ Are you going to the Christmas dinner ? ” 

“ No.” He shook his head with a hungry sigh. “ I 
ha’n’t got a ticket this year. There’s so many pore 
children they can’t have ’em all, in course. Now missy, 
this here turning is Hedgeware Road, and if you keeps 


MR. B OBB Y AND “Z UCK Y SAM:* 27 1 

on straight up it and then turns up a street to the left 

you’ll come to M Square. Tain’t fur, and I giss 

you can’t miss the way.” 

“ Thank you for showing me,” said Eva. “ Will you 
tell me the name of your house. Lucky Sam ? ’cos then 
I will ask Mrs. Meredith to go and see you ; she’s a very 
kind lady, and I know she will help you.” 

The boy looked down into the earnest face of the little 
lady and gave a short, hard laugh. “ Bless you, missy, 
I ain’t got no private residence. I puts up in the arches 
of nights, and sometimes I gits into a big barrel or creeps 
into an empty cart — anywheres out o’ the wind, I ain’t 
pertickler wheer.” 

“ It must be dreffly cold without any blankets ! ” cried 
the child of luxury with an involuntary shiver. 

“ It’s better nor the open street,” said the hardly 
nurtured son of poverty, with the pathetic resignation of 
the poor. 

“ If I tell you Mrs. Meredith’s ’dress will you go and 
see her ? ” Eva asked anxiously. 

“ I giss no fine ladies want me a-botherin’ round,” he 
answered. “ The flunkey ’ud kick me out pretty sharp. 
Nobody wants beggars.” 

” Indeed,” said Eva in great distress, “ I’m sure they 
would be kind to you. Please say you will go. Lucky 
Sam.” 

I’ll see about it, little lady,” was all the promise her 
pleadings could extract from the boy. Young though 
he was he possessed the sturdy and dogged independ- 
ence often to be noticed in a certain class of the poor 
— not the importunate and ostentatious poor, but those 
unobtrusive folk who would silently starve rather than 
appeal to their more fortunate brethren for help. 

“ Good-bye, Lucky Sam,” said Eva, shaking hands 


272 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


with him ; “ good-bye. Please go and see Mrs. Meredith. 
Can you ’member her ’dress ? ” 

“ Yes, little lady, I can ’member it. Good-bye, little 
lady. Good luck to yer ! ” 

“ Thank you, Lucky Sam,” the little girl answered 
gravely. “ Good-bye. I hope I shall see you again one 
day. You are a very nice, kind boy, and I shall tell papa 
and Mrs. Smith about you.” 

They shook hands again very heartily, and then Eva 
turned away and walked quickly up Edgeware Road. 
The little crossing-sweeper stood for a moment watch- 
ing her, then shouldering his old broom made the best 
of his way back ‘to his crossing, and as he went there 
was a happier look in his thin little face than it had worn 
for months. The soft touch of sympathy had warmed 
his desolate heart. 

“ Come, Julia,” said Eva, addressing that personage in 
an encouraging tone, “ we must make haste, Julia. It’s 
getting late.” 

It zvas getting late. The clock of a neighboring 
church was striking the hour of four, and the early 
twilight of a December day was fast closing in. The 
street lamps and the gas jets in the shop windows had 
been lighted, and the cheerful bustle and confusion 
peculiar to Christmas Eve prevailed in the streets. 

The shops looked very gay and pretty, dressed out in 
holiday fashion and ornamented with bright holly and 
evergreens, but Eva did not so much as cast a glance at 
them. She was only thinking of Mrs. Smith and of how 
she could find her way to her. It seemed to be a terrible 

distance to M Square, and Eva was growing very 

tired. Her legs ached from walking, and her hands 
were cold and cramped. 

The little girl trudged on and on, and Julia trotted 


MR, BOBBY AND LUCKY SAM.' 


273 


after her. Julia was tired as well as her little mistress, 
and no doubt she too was thinking wistfully of the com- 
forts of her own fireside. “ Poor old Julia,” said Eva 
. encouragingly ; “ come along, dear, we will soon get to 
Mrs. Smith’s now.” But Julia gave no answering sign, 
and her stumpy tail remained stiff and straight ; she was 
feeling very injured. She couldn’t at all understand 
why she should be taken for such a long and cold walk, 
when she would much rather stay quietly at home, and 
she felt quite annoyed with her little mistress. 

“ It’s a very long way,” Eva presently said to herself 
with a little sigh. “ I wonder if I’m going right?” 

She spoke half aloud, and greatly to her surprise a 
voice instantly answered her. “ I bet you ain’t,” it 
said. 

Eva glanced apprehensively at the speaker, for there 
was something very unprepossessing in the rough, raspy 
tone. She saw a very ugly and particularly dirty old 
woman, with small, sharp eyes and a wizened face, dressed 
in a tattered gown and a ragged shawl, which, thrown 
over her head, served as bonnet and mantle combined. 

“ If you’ll come along o’ me I’ll show yer the way,” 
said the old woman, and she grasped Eva’s hand in her 
long talon-like fingers. We must turn down ’ere.” 

Before the child could resist she drew her down a side 
street they were passing, clapping a very dirty handker- 
chief over her mouth. “ Best be quiet,” she said 
roughly; “ there’s no sayin’ what I shall do to yer if yer 
ain’t.” 

Eva was a plucky little girl, but she was fairly be- 
wildered and terrified by this sudden and unexpected 
attack, and even had she had the presence of mind to 
scream to the passers-by for help, she would have found 
it difficult to do so on account of the large and dirty 
18 


274 


THE LITTLE LADY "OF LA VENDEE. 


handkerchief that the old woman firmly pressed against 
her mouth. 

“ Let go of me ! ” she gasped. ** Oh, let go of me ! ” 
Not yet awhile, thank yer,” said the old woman with 
a laugh that was not pleasant to hear. Pushing her 
little prisoner before her, she hurried down the quiet 
side street at something like a run. 

“Julia!” cried Eva, looking round despairingly, 
“Julia!” 

Then she saw for the first time that her faithful ally 
was gone. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 


CHRISTMAS EVE IN LONDON. 

“ Christmas Eve ! Now, all you merry children, 

Hang up your stockings and sink to happy rest. 

Then, gliding through the room, the Christ Child passes. 

And, breathing near the sleepers, leaves them blest ! ” 

Mrs. Sale Barker. 

** God will not fail his sons and daughters. He has not endowed them 
with affections and instincts to which he will not re.spond. His solitary 
children . . . are eminently his charge.” — John Pulsford. 

C HRISTMAS EVE in London. No pretty, ideal 
Christmas, like one may sometimes see even 
in this advanced era of ours in the country — an ideal 
Christmas with a clear blue sky overhead, pure white 
snow underfoot, bright holly berries, little redbreasted 
robins, rosy-cheeked carol-singers, and huge yule-logs 
to remind us of how they kept Noel in the good old 
times. But a muddy, foggy, chilly, bleak, genuine 
London Christmas. 

No one unacquainted with the metropolis can imagine 
the utter dreariness of the weather. There was a fog, a 
heavy pea-soup fog, drizzling rain that was rapidly 
changing into snow, and underfoot there was mud inde- 
scribable, and puddles of gigantic proportions. 

The fog that hung over everything like some dense 

(275) 


276 


THE LITTLE LADY OF I.AVENDER. 


greeny-yellow mantle effectually dimmed the brightness 
of the electric light, gas, and Japanese lanterns that 
illumined the gaily-decked shop windows. It seemed 
to defy the gladness of the festive season by throwing a 
dull November aspect upon the scene. It was like 
some dark and evil genius at a fairy feast. 

But nevertheless “ all the world and his wife,” and 
his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts too, for the 
matter of that, seemed to be out shopping. The shops, 
especially the toy shops and the confectioners’, were 
crowded with busy buyers and sellers, while the streets 
were thronged with people hastening on their way laden 
with parcels of all shapes and sizes, or standing gazing 
into the bright shop windows. 

Christmas is a happy festival even in London — yes, 
and even when there is a bad fog ; and so no doubt 
thought a ragged little crossing-sweeper when, in a 
mood of Christmas generosity, a fine lady passing by 
carelessly tossed him a sixpence from her well-filled 
purse. And I suspect a poor old Italian organ-grinder 
agreed with the lad when a kind little lady, before whose 
home in a certain quiet square he was wont to play once 
a week, called him to the door, and with a bright and 
eager face presented him with a woolen scarf and pair 
of cuffs that her own clever fingers had knitted. And 
the little girl was happy too ; for depend upon it, chil- 
dren, to do good to others and to minister to their wants 
as best we can is the truest form of happiness and brings 
the best joy with it. 

In the next house to that in which the old organ- 
grinder’s kind little friend lived, a lady sat in a large 
and very handsomely furnished room. In London she 
was known as the beautiful and celebrated professional 
singer, Madame A , but in the quiet village of 


CHRIS TMAS EVE IN L OND ON 277 

Lavender she had but a few weeks before passed as 
Mrs. Smith. 

There was a very grave expression on the beautiful 
face of Mrs. Smith as she sat by her fireside alone on 
that Christmas Eve. Altliough she was so beautiful, so 
gifted, and so — to all outward appearance — singularly 
fortunate and prosperous, she was very far from being 
really happy. 

Yet happiness had been within her grasp; she need 
only have stretched out her hand to take it ; and it was 
she herself who had turned away from it, prompted by 
that pride which is the most formidable enemy our 
earthly happiness knows. It was she herself who had 
steeled her heart against love and kindness and had 
elected to spend a solitary Christmas. 

But we are not apt to find consolation in the knowl- 
edge that a certain pain, or misfortune, or discomfort, is 
our own fault, and entirely brought about by ourselves, 
though by the way in which some people remind us of 
these facts one might suppose that such was the state of 
the case. And so Mrs. Smith, sitting lonely and sad in 
her low chair by the fire, with an unread book lying 
open on her lap, and her eyes wistfully looking into the 
bright caverns and ruddy depths formed by the glowing 
log-wood, as though she traced in them a reflection of 
the brighter days of long ago, experienced none of the 
joy that Christmas should bring. 

The little church at the end of the square possessed a 
pretty peal of bells, and now they began to ring merrily 
for even-song. To Mrs. Smith their music seemed 
nothing but a bitter mockery, for it touched no respon- 
sive chord in her heart. She wished that Christmas 
were past; it was a festival in which she had no part, 
a time for the reunion of rejoicing friends, for the gather- 


278 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER, 


ing together of scattered families — a time of joy and 
gladness, and she was alone and sad and tired. 

She remembered wistfully the days of long ago, when, 
one of a merry family of brothers and sisters, she had 
helped to deck the homely though shabby old house that 
had been their home with evergreens and holly and 
mistletoe, and had taken her turn in stirring the Christ- 
mas pudding “for luck,” and had hung up her stocking 
with the rest in the hope that that mysterious being, 
Santa Claus, would pay it a friendly visit. Her father, a 
retired naval officer, had been a poor man, and although 
he had done his best for his children, their home had 
been by no means a luxurious one ; but they had been 
such a merry, healthy party of young people that they 
had wished for nothing better, and now, looking back on 
it, Mrs. Smith thought that that old life of long ago had 
been an almost perfectly happy one. 

That is the way, children ; when we are little our 
ambition is to be “ big ” and “ grown-up,” and we think 
lessons and discipline and the restrictions of nursery and 
schoolroom life very tiresome, and in our ignorance we 
envy those “ grown-up people ” who seem to do as they 
please and to have so much freedom and amusement. 
But, depend upon it, our childhood’s days are the happiest, 
after all, and in after life we have to learn harder tasks 
than history and geography and arithmetic, and to sub- 
mit to a more severe discipline than going to bed early 
and practising innumerable scales on the piano. Try to 
be happy and contented, then, and to make the most of 
those dear ones whom God has given you, and to be kind 
and loving to them while they are spared to be your 
companions ; so that, by and by, when you are older, you 
may have no need to look back regretfully upon “ the 
days that can never return.” 


CHRISTMAS EVE IN LONDON. 279 

So Mrs. Smith, sitting in her luxurious but solitary 
room on that Christmas Eve, thought wistfully of the 
past, of the bright-faced boys and girls whose pleasures 
and troubles she had shared, and of a gentle, restraining 
voice that had long been hushed now — her mother’s; 
and so pondering, her thoughts returned to a subject that 
constantly occupied them — Eva. 

“ It must be a poor sort of pride that separates a 
mother from her own child,” Mrs. Meredith had ex- 
claimed, and though Mrs. Smith had not heard her utter 
these words, their full force was borne upon her mind as 
she sat there thinking. It seemed to her that she had 
never before realized the step her pride had induced her to 
take. “ But it is too late to repent,” she thought; “ I can- 
not change my mind now — it is too late ! ” She covered 
her face with her hands as though to shut out that terri- 
ble thought from her, but the words “ Too late ! too late ! ” 
seemed to ring in her ears. “ My little girl — my little 
girl ! ” she cried with a sob that seemed to rend her 
heart. 

Presently she grew quieter. There are some griefs 
that are beyond the relief of tears, but they, let us hope, 
are only experienced by older people ; for the hearts of 
little children are too tender to bear the burden of such 
sorrows, and he knows that who himself carries the load 
of such as are heavy-laden. 

Mrs. Smith, sitting there thinking of nothing but her 
sorrow and her remorse, and quite absorbed in her own 
sadness, was too preoccupied to hear the ringing of the 
the door-bell and the voices in the hall below that im- 
mediately followed it. She did not hear a light step that 
quickly ascended the thickly-carpeted stairs, nor did she 
look up when the door-handle turned and some one 
entered the room where she sat. 


28 o 


THE LITTLE LAD V OF LA VENDEE. 


Mrs. Smith ! ” cried a clear, sweet voice she knew and 
loved well. Mrs. Smith dearest ! ” 

She looked up then, trembling and startled. It 
could not be. It was impossible. Too strange ! But 
there was nothing strange in the familiar little figure in 
the old-fashioned cloak and broad-brimmed hat of 
Quaker gray ; nothing strange in the pretty eager face 
and soft, fair curls that Mrs. Smith’s wistful eyes gazed 
upon. And there was nothing impossible either in the 
gentle, loving little arms that clung to her, and the soft, 
childish lips that kissed her pale cheek, and the gentle 
voice that simply said, “ Mrs. Smith dearest, you 
wouldn’t come to me, and so, ’cos I love you so much. 
I’ve come to you.” 

Oh, my darling ! ” cried Mrs. Smith ; my own dear 
little girl ! ” 

She was crying now, but they were tears that did her 
more good than harm, and she had Eva to kiss them 
away and to caress and comfort her, and so they didn’t 
signify. 

“ I’m ever so glad I thoughted of my plan,” said Eva 
earnestly. And so was Mrs. Smith. 

Presently, when they had grown a little quieter and 
more composed, Mrs. Smith began to question Eva as to 

how she had arrived at M Square. “ I had no 

idea that you were in London, dear,” she said. 

“ I corned up with papa,” explained Eva. “ Papa and 
me is staying with Mrs. Meredith ; she is a very kind, 
pretty lady, and Colonel Meredith is a most ’musin’ 
gentleman. He romps with Julia and me, and never has 
bones in his legs. You’ve not said How d’you do ? to 
Julia yet, Mrs. Smith dear, and she ’zerves to be very 
p’litely treated to-night, ’cos she’s been such a brave dog.” 


CHRISTMAS EVE IN LONDON ' 281 

Julia, who had stretched herself on the hearthrug in a 
comfortable and “ quite at home ” attitude, thumped her 
stumpy tail hard on the floor at the mention of her 
name. 

“ She was ever so brave ! ” said Eva, sitting upright on 
Mrs. Smith’s lap and speaking very impressively. “ That 
young gentleman said that if it hadn’t been for Julia I 
should have been stolen away, and p’r’aps no one would 
have finded me for years and years. I knew there were 
thieves in London,” added the little girl with dilating 
blue eyes, “ but I never thinked they would steal little 
girls — did you ? ” 

** My dear Eva,” said Mrs. Smith, turning quite pale, 
“ what ^r^you saying ? Did you come here alone, dear ? 
Surely they would not permit such a thing. Tell me all 
about it.” 

” Oh, I forgetted I hadn’t told you about the old 
lady ! ” exclaimed Eva. “ She was a very cross old lady, 
and she wore a big shawl. She was just like the picture 
of the witch in the fairy-tale book. I was walking along 
and she came up to me and pinched my hand hard and 
pulled me down a side street and stuffed a big pocket- 
handkerchief into my mouth, so that I couldn’t call out. 
It wasn’t a nice handkerchief,” said the little girl with a 
shudder ; “ there was no ody-clone on it, and I don’t 
think it had been to the wash for a long time.” 

“ Go on, dear, go on ! What happened next ? ” cried 
Mrs. Smith, holding the child closer to her. 

How pale your face is, Mrs. Smith dear. Does it 
frighten you to hear about the cross old lady? ” 

“ It frightens me to hear of the dangers you have 
passed through, Eva. Go on, dear ; tell me all about it.” 

was very frightened when that cross old lady 
took me,” said Eva rather tremulously. “ She had 


282 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


such a frightening face, and when I looked round for 
Julia she was gone and I thoughted she was lost. 
But the next minute she ran up ever so fast and 
caught hold of the old lady’s shawl in her teeth, and 
tore at it, and barked and barked — oh, so loud, and then 
a kind bobby and that young gentleman and a lot of 
people came running up, and the old woman ran too and 
left me. And what d’you think she did ? ” 

“ What did she do ? ” asked Mrs. Smith quickly. 

She left her shawl behind her, ’cos Julia wouldn’t let 
it go.” 

“ Clever Julia ! ” 

“ Yes, wasn’t she a clever dog? But I hope that poor 
old lady won’t feel very cold without her shawl. P’r’aps 
she hasn’t got another.” 

“ Well, she deserved to lose it.” 

“Ye-es. Of course it was naughty of her to try to 
steal me, but p’r’aps she’s very lonely and has no little 
girls of her own,” said Eva thoughtfully. “ I am glad 
she runned away, ’cos that young gentleman said she 
would have been punished if she’d been caught,” the little 
girl added, “ and I don’t like people to be punished.” 

“ And who was the young gentleman ? ” 

Oh, he was very kind, and he broughted me here in 
a cab. When I told him the ’dress he said he knew you, 
Mrs. Smith dear, and he asked me to give you this card.” 

Gerard Sinclair ! ” read Mrs. Smith. “ Very good of 
him. I’m sure. How fortunate he chanced to meet you ! 
O my dear little Eva, to think of you out alone in Lon- 
don ! It is too dreadful. They must all be in a terrible 
state about you at Mrs. Meredith’s. I must telegraph to 
her at once. Did you come away entirely unknown to 
them, Eva? Oh, my dear!” 

“ I didn’t mean to be unkind,” said the little girl 


CHRISTMAS EVE IN LONDON 283 

anxiously. “You see I though ted I should not be out 
long. I thoughted it was quite a little way to your 
house. Do you think poor papa will be very frightened ? ” 

“ He will soon know that you are safe with me, dear,” 
said Mrs. Smith reassuringly. “ I will telegraph to Mrs. 
Meredith at once. How thankful I am that you reached 
here in safety. Oh, my dear Eva, it terrifies, me even to 
think of the dangers you have run. Little children 
ought never to go out alone in London, and no one who 
is sensible would allow such a thing. Where was 
Mollie ? ” 

“ Oh, it was really not Mollie’s fault,” cried Eva 
quickly. “ Mollie mustn’t be scolded, ’cos she couldn’t 
help it, poor thing. Pm the one that ought to be 
scolded.” 

“ And no one is likely to scold you,” said Mrs. Smith, 
kissing her. “ Aren’t you very tired, darling ? Indeed, 
I’m sure you must be.” 

“ Just a little,” Eva admitted. “ But,” she added with 
a small sigh of relief, “ it’s all right now I’ve really got 
to you, Mrs. Smith dear.” 

Mrs. Smith bent and kissed the sweet face that rested 
against her shoulder. “ What made you come to me, 
Eva ? ” she asked rather tremulously. 

“ It was ’cos papa and me wanted you so much,” 
answered the little girl simply. “ And I thoughted that 
if I begged you very hard p’r’aps you would come home 
with us. Will you come, Mrs. Smith dear? Oh, please, 
please do,” pleaded Eva earnestly. “ Papa and me will 
be so sad without you at Christmas-time. We want you 
so much ! ” 

Your father did not know that you intended coming 
to see me, Eva?” asked Mrs. Smith in a low voice. 

The little girl shook her head. “I kept it a secret, 


284 the Little lady of lavender. 

’cos I was so afraid of ’spointing him,” she said. “ Poor 
papa ! he’s so sad I didn’t want to make him more 
unhappy.” 

“ Did he tell you about me — about, about ” Mrs. 

Smith, who was always so self-possessed, hesitated 
curiously, a sensitive flush coloring her beautiful face. 

But Eva accepted new positions with the simplicity 
of childhood, and saw no embarrassment in the present 
situation. She flung her arms round Mrs. Smith’s neck 
and kissed her in her pretty, impulsive fashion. “ Papa 
told me that you’re my own dear mother, Mrs. Smith 
dear,” she said, “and Pm ever so glad — oh, you can’t 
think how glad ! Do you think you will love me now 
I’m your own little girl — do you ? ” she added very 
anxiously. 

“ I have always loved you, my Eva,” answered Mrs. 
Smith, clasping the child to her and kissing her passion- 
ately. 

“ I’m so glad,” said Eva earnestly. “ And will you 
come home to Lavender Rectory with papa and me ? ” 
she asked eagerly. 

“ I — we will talk about that presently,” said Mrs. 
Smith evasively. “ And now, dear, let me take off your 
cloak and hat and settle you in this chair by the fire 
while I send off that telegram. How cold your poor 
little hands are, my sweet ? I am sure you must be 
feeling thoroughly exhausted.” 

“Julia’s ’zausted, I think,” said Eva, glancing at her 
faithful ally, “ she’s snoring so loud ; don’t you hear 
her? How is Pom-pon, Mrs. Smith dear? I hope he’s 
quite well?” 

“ Oh, he is radiant,” said Mrs. Smith, smiling. She 
went to the door and opening it called to Pom-pon. He 
was not far off, and trotted into the room shaking his 


CHRISTMAS EVE IN L ONDON. 285 

many bangles like so many castanets and looking very 
proud of the bright red ribbons with which Evans had 
adorned him for Christmas. He recognized Eva 
directly, and wagged his tufted tail with gracious conde- 
scension when she patted him. But when he beheld his 
old rival Julia comfortably established in his own partic- 
ular place on the rug before the fire he uttered a low 
growl of disapproval. 

As for Julia, she just blinked one eye and looked out 
of the corner of it at Pom-pon as though to say, “ Oh, 
there you are again,” and then she closed it and con- 
tinued snoring tranquilly. 

Eva was much amused by this little scene. She lifted 
Pom-pon up on the chair beside her, and made a great deal 
of him so that he should not feel jealous of his rival. 

Mrs. Smith wrote the telegram to Mrs. Meredith and 
sent a servant to the post-office with it, and then a smart 
little page-boy who reminded Eva of Dickie brought in the 
tea-tray and set it on a pretty bamboo table near the fire. 
There was a great variety of cakes and bon-bons, and Julia 
at least did full justice to them. Pom-pon looked as 
though he thought she had an unfair share of good 
things, and he stood on his hind legs and put on all his 
most insinuating airs and graces to call attention to him- 
self. 

“ You are eating nothing, Eva dear,” said Mrs. Smith 
anxiously. “ I am afraid you are very tired, aren’t you ? ” 

“ Not very, thank you, Mrs. Smith dear,” said the little 
girl. “But just then I was thinking about poor Lucky 
Sam, and wondering if he has any tea this evening, and 
that made me feel rather grave.” 

“ Who is Lucky Sam ? ” asked Mrs. Smith. And Eva 
told her all about the poor little street arab, and also 
about her kind friend “ Mr. Bobby.” 


286 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


Mrs. Smith listened with great interest. “ We must 
see what we can do for Lucky Sam,” she said. ** Poor 
little fellow ! I am afraid there are many boys in his 
sad position in this great world of London. But do not 
look so grave, my little Eva.” 

I can’t bear to think about all the poor people who 
are so hungry and cold ; can you, Mrs. Smith dear ? ” 
asked the little girl, her pretty blue eyes filling with 
tears. “ It’s so sad. Do you think it would be naughty 
if I was to pray to God to make them all rich, so that 
they couldn’t be cold and hungry any more, do you ? ’* 
she asked very earnestly. 

Mrs. Smith looked puzzled. Sometimes it is very 
difficult to answer the direct questions children put; 
often it is even more hard to evade them. ‘‘ I think, 
dear, you might pray for power to help the poor,” she 
said, after a moment’s hesitation. It was a relief to her 
when Eva accepted this suggestion as a sufficient reply. 

When the little page-boy had taken away the tea 
things, and Julia and Pom-pon had fallen asleep on 
the extreme opposite ends of the hearthrug, Eva climbed 
up into Mrs. Smith’s lap and put her arm caressingly 
round her neck. “ Mrs. Smith darling,” she said earn- 
estly, “ I want to ask you something — something very 
’portant.” 

“ What is it, pet ? ” 

“ It’s a great, "normous favor.” 

“ Dear me ! this sounds formidable.” 

“ It’s about somebody that lives at Lavender,” said 
Eva, still speaking in a very earnest tone. ” Some- 
body who lives all alone and is often ill and has a great 
deal of pain to bear, poor thing.” 

Mrs. Smith turned away her face from the child’s 
wistful eyes, and looked into the glowing caverns of 


CHRISTMAS EVE IN LONDON 


287 


the fire, and after a minute Eva continued speaking. 
“ It’s very bad to be sick and lonely,” she said gently. 

I am so sorry for that poor person ; aren’t you, Mrs. 
Smith dear ? ” 

“ What if he is wicked, Eva ? ” Mrs. Smith spoke in 
a very hard tone, and kept her face averted. 

“ But he isn’t wicked now, and oh, I am sure he is 
sorry ! ” cried the little girl. 

“ You are of course speaking of Captain Ransom ? ” 
Yes, Mrs. Smith dear, I was speaking about him,” 
answered Eva simply. Papa says he has been naughty, 
but he will forgive him if you will. Will you forgive 
him ? Oh, please don’t say No, ’cos he is so sad and 
so ill.” 

“ I — I will see,” faltered Mrs. Smith. She was think- 
ing of the deceit and treachery that had made her an 
alien to her own child, and had shadowed her life for 
all those long lonely years. Should she forgive it ? 
Could she ? And that Eva’s innocent lips should plead 
for her secret enemy, that she should love him and be 
filled with compassion for him ! Ah ! strange are the 
workings of this world, curious indeed the various wind- 
ings of the path of life ! 

“ Darling,” she said, after a few moments’ silence, 
‘‘ You must not press me for an answer now — by and 
by we will see.” 

Eva lifted her face and kissed her silently. In her 
simple little mind she thought that Mrs. Smith had too 
kind and gentle a heart to withhold her forgiveness for 
long, she would certainly grant it soon — when she had 
thought the matter over ; and so she forbore to say more. 

Do you think papa will come soon, Mrs. Smith 
dear ? ” she asked, a few moments later. It’s nearly 
six o’clock, isn’t it ? ” 


288 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


“ Yes, just six. But probably your father will send 
some one for you. I do not suppose he himself will 
come,” said Mrs. Smith quickly. 

“ Oh, I think he will,” Eva remarked confidently. 

A sensitive flush dyed Mrs. Smith’s lovely face, and 
the arm that surrounded the little girl trembled. 

After that they sat very quietly for a while. Mrs. 
Smith was busy with her thoughts, and Eva was really 
feeling tired. Both were disinclined to talk. 

The fitful firelight glanced from time to time upon 
their figures, the graceful, beautiful woman’s, and the 
slight little girl’s, whose fair head rested against her 
breast and about whom her arms were caressingly 
thrown — mother and child. 

Mother and child ! a lovely picture always, depicting 
as it does quite the purest affection and the most lasting 
tie that God has given to man ; reminding us, as in all 
reverence it ever must, of that mother and her Holy 
Child of the Nazareth of long ago. The Holy Child for 
the remembrance of whose birth on earth the Christmas 
bells ring out their gladdest chime year after year, and 
whose faultless life will always be our childhood’s 
pattern. 

It was Scarcely wonderful that, sitting quietly so, in 
the soft, warm firelight, with Mrs. Smith’s arms around 
her, Eva should presently fall asleep. The little girl 
had passed through a long and trying day, and she was 
thoroughly tired. So the drowsy lids gently closed 
over the blue eyes, and the child sank into a sweet and 
restful slumber. 

And^ while she slept Eva had what seemed to her a 
very wonderful and pretty dream. 

She thought that she was at home, lying in her little 


CBJilSTMAS EVE IN LONDON 


289 


white bed in the old oak-panelled nursery of Lavender 
Rectory, and that the church bells were ringing because 
it was Christmas-tide. The window curtains were drawn 
back, and Eva could see from her bed the snow-clad, 
wintry world outside. Such a pretty world it was ! all 
the hills and woods and fields covered with a great 
mantle of pure white snow, and above a young moon 
shining clear and bright, “ a saffron crescent in an opal 
sky,” while all around it twinkled innumerable brilliant 
stars. 

“ How pretty it all looks ! ” thought Eva admiringly. 

Suddenly there shone out in the eastern sky one large 
white star, before the radiance of which all the lesser 
stars grew dim. Clear and bright and silvery it shone, 
this great, beautiful star, lighting the whole world ; and 
gazing at it with reverent eyes Eva knew that it must be 
the star of Bethlehem. 

“ It is the star the wise men saw,” she said in a low, 
awed tone. 

“ Yes,” said a voice near her — a sweet, clear voice ; 
“ it is the same star — the token of forgiveness, of peace, 
and of goodwill from heaven to men. Always at Christ- 
mas it shines gloriously in the wintry sky, but only to 
the eye of faith is it visible.” 

Then Eva turned her head to look at the speaker, and 
saw standing by her bedside a beautiful child dressed in 
white that was as pure and spotless as the snow. Wings 
were attached to his shoulders, and a bright light that 
seemed as the reflection of the Bethlehem star shone 
upon his golden hair and upon his gentle, lovely face. 

“ Who are you, please ? ” Eva asked shyly. 

“ I am one of the Christmas spirits,” answered the 
child, “the youngest of them; and my name is Inno- 
cence. I only visit the dreams of children, for the 

19 


290 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


grown-up people do not know me. I have brought you 
a present, little Eva.” 

“ Oh, what is it ? ” cried the little girl eagerly. 

“ It is a gift from heaven,” answered the spirit-child in 
a grave, sweet voice, ” a gift that is only sent to those 
who love God and their fellow-men, and whose hearts 
are pure and gentle and kind. You are blessed with 
such a heart, little Eva, and that is why I bring you this 
gift, which many have coveted but which few possess, 
because they do not live so as to obtain it.” 

Eva looked up earnestly into the thoughtful, lovely 
face of Innocence, and he held out his hands to her, and 
in them was a great pearl, soft and shining with a most 
exquisite lustre. 

“ It is the pearl of perfect happiness,” said the spirit- 
child, “ the most rare of all gifts— a very precious jewel. 
Take it Eva and keep it safely. So long as you are 
good and pure and gentle, so long as your, heart is full 
of love and innocence, it will be yours — no longer. It is 
easily lost.” 

Eva looked at the precious pearl which Innocence had 
placed in her outstretched hands. It was . the most 
beautiful stone she had ever seen. She turned round to 
thank the spirit-child for his wonderful gift, but he was 
gone. 

The church bells were still ringing, echoing over the 
snowy fields with gladdest, sweetest music, flinging far 
and wide the blessed message of the Saviour’s birth ; and, 
in the east shone the Christmas star, illuminating all the 
world with its radiant beauty. 

Below the window of the nursery stood a little group 
— the children of the village choir, who had come to the 
Rectory on this Christmas Eve to sing a carol to the 
Little Lady of Lavender. 


CHRISTMAS EVE IN LONDON 


291 


The children’s clear, fresh young voices rang out 
joyously and sweetly on the keen frosty air, and these 
were the well-loved, familiar words they sang — 

“ ’Twas in the winter cold, when earth 
Was desolate and wild, 

That angels welcomed at his birth 
The everlasting Child. 

From realms of ever-bright’ning day. 

And from his throne above. 

He came with humankind to stay. 

All lowliness and love.” 

Eva heard no more, for at the end of this the first verse 
of the carol the singing suddenly ceased, and with a 
start the little girl opened her eyes, not on the dark, oak- 
panelled nursery of the Rectory, but on Mrs. Smith’s 
pretty drawing-room, with its perfume of hot-house 
flowers and its rose-shaded lights. Several moments 
passed before Eva realized where she was, and that she 
was lying on Mrs. Smith’s sofa, wrapped in a warm 
woolen shawl, and with a soft plush cushion under her 
head. But as recollection dawned upon her she raised 
herself on her elbow and looked round for Mrs. Smith. 

Mrs. Smith was seated in a low chair by the fire with 
her back to the sofa, and, could it be ? yes, it really was 
‘^papa, his own self,” whom Eva saw standing leaning 
against the marble mantelpiece talking to her. Their 
conversation appeared to be a very earnest and en- 
grossing one, for Eva called twice to Mrs. Smith before 
she heard her. 

But at the second call she got up quickly, and came 
to the sofa and kissed Eva, who was sitting up, with 
ruffled curly hair, and her baby face prettily flushed from 
sleep. “ You have had a nice rest, dear,” she said, 

“ It was very nice,” said Eva, “ but I wonder where 
the buful pearl has gone,” 


292 THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 

** What pearl ? ” asked Mrs. Smith, looking surprised. 

“ The pearl the little Christmas spirit gived me,” 
answered Eva. “ Oh, I hope it isn’t losted.” 

“ You have been dreaming, pet,” said Mrs. Smith, 
smiling. 

But to Eva there always seemed a curious element of 
reality in that pretty Christmas dream, and she never 
forgot it. And the pearl — that rare gift of innocence — 
it was an invisible jewel, but presently she knew that she 
possessed it still. 

“ Are you feeling sufficiently rested to come home to- 
night, my little girl?” asked her father. ‘‘You know 
we promised grandfather we would go home on Christ- 
mas Eve, and it is not a long journey to Lavender.” 

“ Were you very frightened about me, papa dear ? Did 
you think I was losted ? ” Eva asked wistfully, as she 
slipped her little hand into his. 

‘‘ Yes, I was very frightened about you, dear, and so 
were Colonel and Mrs. Meredith and Mollie. You put 
us all into a sad state of anxiety, my little runaway.” 

Eva’s eyes filled with tears. “ I didn’t mean to be naugh- 
ty or unkind,” she said quickly, “ I didn’t really, papa ! ” 

He stooped and kissed her wistful, upturned little face. 
“ I’m sure you didn’t, dear. And, thank God, you are safe.” 

“ Are we going home this very evening, papa? ” 

“ Well, yes, little woman, if you don’t feel too tired,” 
he answered. ‘‘ You see we promised grandfather we 
would go back for Christmas, and he would be very 
lonely without his little housekeeper, wouldn’t he ? ” 

“ I should like to go home,” said Eva, “ but is Mrs. 
Smith coming with us — is she, papa ? ” She looked 
from one face to the other with great anxiety. 

“ I don’t know,” her father answered in a low tone ; 
‘^you must ask her, Eva,” 


CHJ^ISTMAS EVE IN LONDON. 


293 


Eva took Mrs. Smith’s hand, and raised her pleading 
blue eyes to her face. *‘Will you come, Mrs. Smith 
dearest ? ” cried the little girl earnestly. 

There was an instant’s pause, and then Eva threw 
her arms around Mrs. Smith’s waist and drew her down 
to her in her pretty, loving way. “ Papa and me want 
you so very much — mother — my mother,” she whispered 
softly. 

Mrs. Smith stooped and kissed the child’s sweet face. 
“ Yes, darling, I will come,” she said ; and Eva fancied 
that there was a tear upon the cheek that her soft lips 
pressed, but afterwards she thought she must have been 
mistaken, because she saw such a world of radiant 
happiness in her mother’s beautiful eyes. 

“How happy we are, aren’t we, papa dear?” cried 
Eva joyfully. “ I don’t think I’ve losted that buful 
pearl after all ! ” 

Her father and mother did not understand her words, 
but we do, and we know that she was right — the pearl 
was still hers. 

That gift of innocence — the pearl of perfect happiness 
— is a rare gift that all covet, and some maintain that it 
is never given to men while they live upon earth. That 
may be ; because there is sin in the world, and Inno- 
cence cannot come where there is sin. But the pure, 
fresh heart of childhood may court his sweet presence, 
as little Eva did, and may in its early days below re- 
ceive that gift, the precious jewel that is so rarely won. 
And to those older souls who in the warfare of the world 
have lost the presence of the sweet spirit-child of Eva’s 
dream Christmas may bring a yet better gift than the 
pearl of perfect happiness, even that most beautiful 
jewel — the peace that passeth all understanding. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


CHRISTMAS DAY AT LAVENDER. 


“ Christmas ! hear the joy bells ringing. 

Glad hymns in the churches singing, 

Of his mercy, of his power, 

And the gifts good angels shower! ” 

Mrs. Sale Barker. 

“ The spirit of true love, a Christian love, will incline us to look 
charitably upon the conduct of those around us. It will hide from view, 
throw a mantle, as it were, over the faults and failings of others, and thus 
cover them up.” 

F rom the earliest Christmas morning that Eva could 
remember the children of Lavender Church choir 
had come, superintended by the village schoolmaster, to 
sing a carol to “ the little lady at the Rectory.” And 
when they had finished their singing they would repair 
to the Rectory kitchen, where a charming breakfast was 
provided for them. 

Eva would go with Mollie to help in ministering to the 
wants of the little guests, and to see that they all had 
what they wanted, and that no one was forgotten. And 
then, when the children had sung a pretty, simple grace, 
“ Miss ’Vangeline,” as they called her, gave to each child 
a small present, often of her own making ; for Mollie 
had taught her little lady to sew very neatly, so neatly 
(294) 


CHRISTMAS DAY AT LA VENDER. 


295 

that I doubt whether Eva’s work would have been put to 
shame by the exquisitely fine stitches of those clever 
seamstresses of a generation back. 

It would be hard to say who best enjoyed this pleasant 
Christmas morning custom — Eva or her little guests. 
It was a treat which both looked forward to eagerly, and 
a simple pleasure that cost but little beyond forethought 
and care, and brought happiness to many young minds. 

On this Christmas morning Eva sat in the low win- 
dow-seat of the Rectory nursery awaiting the arrival of 
the little singers. By her side was Julia, who leaned her 
big head affectionately against her little mistress’s arm, and 
at her feet lay the collie arid the two foxhound puppies, 
who found it very difficult to keep still for five minutes 
even to listen to a Christmas carol. Pom-pon was 
perched on a chair near, looking very proud of his bright 
bangles and smart red ribbons, and holding his long, 
pointed nose loftily in the air, as one who would say. 
Just see what a fine fellow I am ! ” 

Eva looked gravely at Pom-pon and feared that he 
was growing vain, and she tied a very charming pale 
blue ribbon round Julia’s neck, so that she need not feel 
cast in the shade by her smart rival. Poor dear old 
Julia! her delightfully ugly countenance, with its huge 
mouth reaching from ear to ear, heavy drooping jaw, and 
great goggle eyes, looked comical enough surmounted 
by a rakish bow of blue ribbon ; but Eva thought the 
adornment most becoming to her pet. 

Eva felt perfectly happy that morning. I b’lieve I 
am the happiest child in the world this Christmas Day, 
grandfather dear ! ” she exclaimed when the old clergy- 
man gave her his blessing and wished her many glad re- 
turns of the season. “ Every one is so kind to me, and 
I have so many people to love me,” she added in her 


296 THE LITTLE LAD Y OF LA VENDER. 

simple, earnest way. And, looking down into the ra- 
diant, upturned face, Mr. Herbert thought that certainly 
it was as happy a little countenance as one might wdsh to 
see, even at the happy Christmas-tide. 

A dainty, tiny personage looked the Little Lady of 
Lavender as she sat by the narrow lattice-window in the 
sunshine — for it was a very bright morning, and there 
was plenty of sunshine although it was mid-winter. In 
honor of the season Mollie had dressed her in a new 
frock of a delicate shade of mauve called scabious, a 
simply-made, old-fashioned frock, with a silk sash of the 
same color and a falling Vandyke collar of soft antique 
lace. 

The little girl’s fair head, with its thick, curling hair, 
and her quaint, old-world dress, reminded Mrs. Smith, 
who lingered for an instant in the nursery doorway to 
look at her, of a picture she had once seen of some 
pretty child of the Cavalier days of long ago ; but there 
was more Puritan pensiveness than Cavalier piquancy in 
the sweet face the soft curls shaded. 

Eva glancing up saw her mother, and ran across the 
room to meet her. “ Come and listen to the carols, Mrs. 
Smith — that is, mother dearest,” she said, taking her 
hand and leading her to the window. “ The children 
have just come, and they sing so prettily. I ’spect it is 
very cold out of doors, for see how pink their noses look, 
poor things ! ” 

“Yes, the cold is not becoming,” said Mrs. Smith, 
laughing. 

“ Don’t you think so ? ” asked Eva. “ Well, I rather 
like to see people’s noses red. It looks so cheerful.” 

“Are these children going to sing a carol?” Mrs. 
Smith asked. 

“ Yes,” said Eva ; “ they always come on Christmas 


CHRISTMAS DAY AT LAVENDER. 


297 


morning to sing to me. Isn’t it kind of them ? They 
are going to sing my favorite carol to-day ; the one I 
dreamed about, don’t you ’member ? It’s so sweet, I 
know you’ll like it ever so much.” 

So together, hand in hand, in the bright, sunny 
window, they listened to the children’s blithe young 
voices as they stood, a cheerful group, on the white, 
frosty path below. And this is the carol the children 
sang to Eva and her mother on that bright Christmas 
morning — 


“’Twas in the winter cold, when earth 
Was desolate and wild, 

That angels welcomed at his birth 
The everlasting Child. 

From realms of ever-bright’ning day. 
And from his throne above. 

He came with humankind to stay, 

All lowliness and love. 

“ Then in the manger, the poor beast 
Was present with his Lord ; 

Then swains and pilgrims from the East 
Saw, wondered, and adored. 

And I this morn would come with them 
This blessed sight to see. 

And to the Babe of Bethlehem 
Bend low the reverent knee. 

“ But I have not, it makes me sigh, 

One offering in my power ; 

’Tis winter all with me, and I 
Have neither fruit nor flower. 

O God, O brother, let me give 
My worthless self to thee, 

And that the years that I may live 
May pure and spotless be ; 

“ Grant me thyself, O Saviour kind, 

The Spirit undefiled. 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


298 


That I may be in heart and mind 
As gentle as a child ; 

That I may tread life’s arduous ways 
As thou thyself hast trod, 

And in the might of prayer and praise 
Keep ever close to God. 

“ Light of the everlasting morn, 

Deep through my spirit shine ; 

There let thy presence newly born 
Make all my being thine : 

Then try me as the .silver, try 
And cleanse my soul with care. 

Till thou art able to descry 
Thy faultless image there.” 


“ Isn’t it sweet ? ” Eva asked, looking up eagerly at 
Mrs. Smith (as I think we must still call her) as the 
singing ceased. 

“ It is very sweet,” said Mrs. Smith, clasping yet 
closer the little hand that lay confidingly in hers. 

“ Why, dearest, there are tears in your eyes!” cried 
Eva in a tone of much consternation. “ Is it ’cos you’re 
sorry you’ve corned to Lavender ? ” she asked anxiously. 

Mrs. Smith sat down on the low oak window-seat and 
drew the child into her arms. “ They were tears of hap- 
piness, I think,” she said. “ This is the happiest Christ- 
mas I have known for many, many years I And you, 
my Eva — are you happy ? ” 

“ Yes, ever so,” said Eva earnestly. But ” she 

stopped short. 

^‘But what, darling?” 

“ There is one thing I want.” 

Is it anything I can give you ? Tell me, pet.” 

“ Can’t you guess ? ” asked Eva very gently ; and 
looking into the child’s wistful blue eyes Mrs. Smith 
thought she could. 


CHRISTMAS DAY AT LAVENDER. 299 

“ It is — about Captain Ransom ? ” she said hesitat- 
ingly. 

“ Yes. O Mrs. Smith darling, he must be so lonely 
to-day, the poor ogre, and perhaps he is ill too ! ” 

“ What do you want to do, Eva ? ” 

“ I want to go and see him this afternoon ; that is 
what I should like. Do you think you will let me ? ” 
said Eva pleadingly. “ Dearest mother, please, please 
do!” 

“ You are fond of him — of Captain Ransom ? ” 

“ Yes, very fond,” answered the child simply. “ He’s 
been so good to me and he is so kind to the poor people 
— oh, ever so kind. I love him. You see me and him 
have been such great friends for a long time.” 

“ What does your father say, dear ? ” 

“ Papa says you must 'cide, mother darling, and I 
thoughted — I thoughted ” 

“ Well, Eva ? ” 

“ I thoughted that, ’cos I know you’ve got such a 
kind, loving heart, you would forgive his highness,”^ said 
Eva. ”You will forgive him, won’t you, darling Mrs. 
Smith — mother ? ” 

And at that moment there came into Mrs. Smith’s 
mind a verse of the carol that the children had just 
sung — 


“ But I have not, it makes me sigh, 

One offering in my power; 

’Tis winter all with me, and I 
Have neither fruit nor flower.” 

She had had no offering in her power and she had 
regretted it, and now one was made possible to her — 
even the offering of forgiveness. And should she, who 
had herself been forgiven so much, withhold her pardon 


300 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


from an erring fellow-creature, and from one too who, 
whatever his sin might have been, must be fully punished 
for it by his lonely life of pain and remorse ? 

“ Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is 
merciful. Judge not and ye shall not be judged : con- 
demn not and ye shall not be condemned : forgive and 
ye shall be forgiven . . . with what measure ye mete 
withal it shall be measured to you again.” Where had 
she read those words ? 

And Eva’s innocent faith in her kindness and love, 
how could she dispel that ? It would be to destroy the 
child’s belief in her goodness, to risk the loss of a pure 
and trusting affection that had become more precious to 
her than words could 5ay. No, she would not hazard it. 

” Eva,” she said quickly, you may go and see Cap- 
tain Ransom if you wish to do so. He — I daresay he 
is very lonely to-day, and we must not forget that he 
has always been kind to you — ;yes, go, dear.” 

Eva knew nothing of the struggle that had taken 
place in her mother’s mind. She raised her sweet face 
and kissed her, saying simply, ” Thank you very much, 
dearest Mrs. Smith. I thoughted you would let me, 
’cos you are always so kind.” 

At this moment Dickie appeared in the doorway. 
“If you please. Miss Eva, the children doesn’t want to 
begin their breakfasties till you’ve heard ’em sing 
grace.” 

“ Oh, I’ll come d’reckly, Dickie,” cried Eva springing 
up. “ Will you come too, mother dear ? Please do. 
It’s very nice to see the little children having breakfast, 
’cos they all ’joy it so. Come along, Julia, and you 
shall have a mince-pie. Doesn’t Julia look sweet with 
that pretty blue ribbon on, Mrs. Smith dear ? ” 

“ Very sweet ; she quite puts Pom-pon in the shade ! ” 


CHRISTMAS DAY AT LA VENDER. 


301 


answered Mrs. Smith, laughing, as she allowed Eva to 
lead her downstairs. 

An hour later the faint December sunshine slanting 
through the stained glass windows of the pretty little 
old church at Lavender fell in a glory of soft, golden 
light upon Eva’s fair head and sweet, pensive little face 
as she sat between her father and mother in the Rectory 
pew. And the child appeared so fair and so happy that 
Dickie’s old granny,” Mrs. Harriss, whispered to little 
Joe that ” Miss ’Vangeline looked for all the world like 
one of them angel children in grandpapa’s old picter 
Bible at home ; that her did, bless her.” And who shall 
say that old granny drew much upon her imagination, 
for what can be more angelic than faith and innocence 
and love, and that simple, childlike heart that thinketh 
no evil ? 

The Christmas message fell upon minds fitly prepared 
for its reception that day, minds tuned into harmony 
with the glad festival by love and forgiveness. And 
Mrs. Smith, listening to the good old rector’s sermon — 
a simple discourse fitted to the understandings of his 
humble flock — thought of the very different Christmas 
this might have been to her, and breathing an involun- 
tary thanksgiving for the blessings vouchsafed to her, 
clasped yet closer the little hand that lay in hers. 

But there was an outsider who, though absent, was by 
no means banished from Eva’s mind. The little girl 
thought frequently of her invalid friend at The Turrets, 
and looked forward eagerly to the time when she should 
see him. It hurt her sympathetic heart and tempered 
her happiness to remember that he might be sad and 
lonely, and perhaps suffering. 

On returning home on the previous night Eva had 


302 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


asked her grandfather how Captain Ransom was, but 
he had not been able to tell her. He had heard nothing 
of him. 

“ Have you been to The Turrets yet?” Eva then in- 
quired of Dickie. 

“ Well — no, Miss Eva.” 

“ I thoughted I told you his highness wanted to see 
you,” said Eva rather severely. 

“ Well, Miss Eva, I just waited till you come home 
— that’s all,” answered the little boy feebly. 

“ I believe you were frightened, Dickie ! ” Eva ex- 
claimed reproachfully. 

“ Well — I — I ain’t used to ogres, you see, missy,” 
pleaded Dickie. 

So no one could give Eva any news of her friend, and 
she felt very anxious about him,, although, because she 
knew that the subject was a painful one at the Rectory, 
she seldom mentioned it. 

** Perhaps the poor ogre is dead ! ” thought Eva sadly. 
It was a dreadful thought, and she could not banish it 
from her mind. It seemed to cast a shadow upon the 
brightness of that glad Christmas service, and to intro- 
duce a sad undercurrent into the sweet music of the 
chants and hymns. 

“ How do you do, John ? ” said Eva in a bright, 
friendly tone. A happy Christmas to you ! ” 

“ The same to you, miss, if you please,” said the tall 
footman of The Turrets, as he lifted the little lady down 
from her lofty perch in her father’s high dogcart. And 
John blushed as red as a peony, so overcome was this 
dignified functionary at having to carry on a cheerful and 
familiar conversation in the presence of Captain Herbert. 

Captain Herbert gathered up the reins, and nodded to 


CHRISTMAS DAY AT LAVENDER. 


303 


Eva as she stood on the wide stone steps that led to 
the porch. “ Good-bye, little woman. I shall send 
Green for you in about an hour’s time.” 

“ Not before, please, papa dear ; 'cos I’ve a great deal 
to say to his highness to-day.” 

Captain Herbert drove briskly away across the court- 
yard, and under the gaunt stone archway that gave to 
the exterior of The Turrets that dreary and prison-like 
appearance so awe-inspiring to the village folk of 
Lavender, and John conducted Eva into the lofty hall. 

The hall was warm and pleasant, heated by hot-water 
pipes and a great log-wood fire ; and Eva drew off her 
sealskin gloves and warmed her small hands at the 
cheerful blaze. 

“ How is his highness — is he pretty well, John ? ” she 
asked earnestly. 

“ Well, this morning he was suffering from a severe 
hattack of nervous hirritation, miss,” answered John. 
“ Leastways that was the name Dr. Pinchin gived it. It 
took the form of ’eavin’ toast-racks and muffineers at my 
'ead, miss, and any other articles of the breakfast table as 
came handy.” 

John’s tone was mild and confidential. He and Eva 
were great allies. 

“ Dear me ! ” said the little girl. ” Poor dear ogre ! 
I’m afraid he must be feeling iller than usual. Do you 
think he is ? ” 

“ Well, if one is to judge by his langwidges, master 
ain’t so bad as he was,” said John thoughtfully. “ His 
langwidges is a deal better than they were before you 
come here, miss.” 

“ I’m learning a language now,” said Eva ; “ it’s called 
French, and it’s very difficult to learn, ’cos there are a 
lot of dreffle things named verbs in it. In France the 


304 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 


people speak French always, papa says. Poor things, it 
must be very difficult for them ! ” 

Dear me, yes ! ” agreed John. “ And you’ve been to 
London, I understands. Miss Evangeline. What did 
you think of the city ? ” 

It was very nice,” said Eva. “ And Mrs. Meredith, 
the lady I stayed with, had a gentleman dressed just like 
you living in her house. His name was John too; 
wasn’t that funny ? ” 

“ There’s a good many gents of my perfession in 
London. I once lived there myself,” said John. “ It’s 
not a bad place is our metropolis, not by no means bad,” 
he added patronizingly. 

“ Ah ! ” said Eva earnestly, “ I’m glad of that. A 
little boy called Lucky Sam told me he thoughted there 
were a lot of bad people there.” 

H’m — I should say they’re much about the same as 
the ‘people as lives in the country,” replied John re- 
flectively. 

“ The bobbies are very nice, at all events,” said Eva. 
“ Don’t you think so?” 

Oh, I’ve a great respect for the perleece force,” the 
tall footman remarked loftily. 

“Pelisse!” Eva repeated, looking puzzled. “That 
was what Mrs. Meredith’s baby wore — a white pelisse 
trimmed with fur. I wasn’t talking about pelisses, 
John.” 

“Ah, no, it was the bobbies you mentioned, to be 
sure,” said John quickly, and Eva wondered why he was 
laughing. 

“ I must go and see his highness now,” said the little 
girl. “ My hands feel quite nice and warm. No, you 
needn’t ’nounce me, thank you ; I want to give the ogre 
a little s’prise.” 


CHRISTMAS DAY AT LA VENDER. 305 

The footman was walking away when Eva called after 
him, “ John ! John ! ” 

He pulled up. “ Yes, miss.” 

“ Please give my kind love to Mrs. Cook and Jackson 
and the other servants, and wish them a happy Christ- 
mas from me.” 

“ Thank you, miss ; I certainly will,” John replied, 
looking much gratified. 

“ Did Santa Claus put many nice presents into your 
stocking last night ? ” Eva asked suddenly. 

The tall footman’s countenance relaxed into a broad 
smile. “ Well, miss, 1 didn’t ’ang it up.” 

“ Dear me, that was a pity. Did you forget ? ” 

“ It wouldn’t have been no sort of use, miss ; Santa 
Claus he wouldn’t have remembered me.” 

“ Oh, but I think he would. He’s such a very kind 
gentleman,” said the little girl eagerly. “ I wonder if he 
brought his highness something nice; I must go and ask 
him. Good-bye, John.” And Eva skipped away across 
the wide hall to the library. 

20 


CHAPTER XXX. 


HAPPY EVER AFTER ! 


“As the rays come from the sun, and yet are not the sun, even so our 
love and pity, though they are not God, but merely a poor weak image 
and reflection of him, yet from him they come.” — Charles Kingsley. 


‘ Bear through sorrow, wrong, and ruth, 

In thy heart the dew of youth. 

On thy lips the smile of truth ; 

Oh, that dew like balm shall steal 
Into wounds that cannot heal, 

Even as sleep our eyes doth seal ; 

And that smile like sunshine dart 

Into many a sunless heart.” — Longfellow. 



HE library looked very large and lonely when Eva 


A softly opened the door and peeped in ; very large 
and lonely in its massive handsomeness, and with only 
the solitary figure of a sick man for its occupant. He 
lay, the master of The Turrets, on his couch, which had 
been drawn up close to the ruddy log-wood fire that 
danced and sparkled in the wide old-fashioned grate. 

The fantastic flames cast a weird light on his shrunken, 
helpless figure ; and the olive plush cushions that sup- 
ported his head and shoulders threw into almost ghastly 
relief his sallow, attenuated face and sunken eyes. He 
was sleeping, and in repose his features looked terribly 
thin and sharp, his lips pale and colorless as wax. The 


(306) 


HAPPY EVER AFTER! 


307 


bony, nervous hand that lay outside on the gray fur rug 
which was thrown over him (for being unable to take 
any exercise he felt the cold terribly and was obliged to 
be very much wrapped up) was as blue-veined as a girl’s. 
His worst enemy must have felt his heart stirred by pity 
could he have looked upon this wreck that once had 
been a strong and active man. He was asleep. Not the 
sweet, light sleep that childhood enjoys, but a restless, 
unrefreshing slumber, from which he would continually 
start with a moan or muttered words — a slumber haunted 
by the shadow of his miserable waking dreams. 

Eva approached the couch on tiptoe, and stood for an 
instant thoughtfully gazing at him. Her blue eyes filled 
with quick tears. “ Poor dear ogre, how ill and sad he 
looks ! ” said the child to herself. Then recollecting 
that Mollie had told her that sleep was the best thing in 
the world for sick people, the little girl climbed up into 
the big carved-oak chair on the opposite side of the high, 
old-fashioned fire-place, and sat very quietly waiting until 
her friend should awake. 

The brightness of the Christmas morn had faded into 
a somewhat sombre December afternoon, and already 
the sun was sinking to his early rest in the gray western 
sky. Eva could see the sunset from where she sat ; and 
she watched the great bright golden ball slowly descend- 
ing behind the distant hills with great interest. Eva’s 
astronomy was vague, but cloudland was a place peopled, 
in her fancy, with bright spirits, and it was there that the 
sun dwelt and shone with undiminished light through * 
night and day — ^so she liked to think. Eva’s simple mind 
was full of day-dreams. This dreamy tendency her quiet 
and rather solitary life had fostered, and Mr. Herbert 
rather encouraged than disapproved of it. He held that 
the poetic fancies and pure imaginings of thoughtful 


3 o 8 the little LADY OF LAVENDER. 

children elevate and enlarge their minds, and are as 
stepping-stones to great intellectual power. He was a 
true advocate for fairy lore and fairy legends, consider- 
ing them indeed as part of the education of the nursery 
and as the primary lesson in the beautiful and the 
poetic. 

The child was sitting thus in the old-fashioned, high- 
backed chair watching the sunset with thoughtful blue 
eyes, and listening to the blithe carolling of a gay little 
robin-redbreast that had perched on the stone moulding 
outside the window to sing his cheerful song to Eva, 
when the sick man awoke, and, opening his eyes, turned 
them on her fair face with a half-bewildered, half-in- 
credulous expression. Could it really be Eva whom he 
saw there in her familiar place, or was he dreaming still ? 
-he asked himself Was it that in his mind he had so 
often thought of her sitting there in her favorite big 
chair on the opposite side of the hearth — the chair that 
had become her particular place — that his fancy now 
pictured her to him a spirit child, a sweet image called 
up by memory — nothing more ? 

But it was no spirit voice that addressed him, but 
Eva’s own bright familiar tone, as slipping down from 
her high chair the little girl crossed over to the sofa 
and laid her warm little hand on the thin, attenuated 
fingers that rested on the fur rug. “ Your highness, 
dear,” she said cheerfully, “ I’ve come to wish you a 
happy Christmas. May I give you a kiss ’cos it’s 
Christmas Day, please ? ” 

He nodded his head silently, gruffly and ungraciously 
enough some people might have thought, and Eva, 
standing on tiptoe, gravely implanted a salute on his 
pale cheek. “ I’m so sorry you’re ill,” she said gently. 

Then she went back to her favorite chair, and climb- 


ITAPFY E FEE AFTER ! 


3<59 

ing up into it — always a matter of some difficulty to 
this small person — sat down, and, leaning her elbow 
upon the arm of the chair and resting her chin on her 
hand, looked at the master of The Turrets with wist- 
ful gravity. “ Fm so sorry you’re ill, ogre dear,^’ she 
repeated ; “ I didn’t know. Fve beeh away to Lon- 
don town with papa, and we only corned back last 
night.” 

Still he did not speak, only watching quietly and 
attentively the innocent face that he had learned to 
love as he might have loved the face of his own child. 

“Aren’t you glad to see me, your highness?” Eva 
asked wistfully. 

“ Little woman, I am more glad than I can say,” he 
answered then in a low, earnest voice. And it was the 
greatest admission of feeling that he had made for many 
years. 

“ I thoughted you would be,” said Eva in a happy 
voice. “ And I am ever so glad to see you. I ’mem- 
bered you when I was away in London town, and I 
buyed you a present. I do hope you’ll like it,” she 
added earnestly and with some anxiety. “ Mrs. Mere- 
dith helped me to choose it.” 

“ I should like any present from you,” said the master 
of The Turrets graciously, and Eva’s face brightened. 

“ Did Santa Claus bring you any present ? ” she asked 
in a tone of much interest. 

“ Not one,” he answered. 

“ Dear me ! ” exclaimed Eva regretfully. “ Fm really 
afraid Santa Claus has forgotted this house, ’cos John 
hadn’t any presents either.” 

“ Ah, did you ask him ? ” exclaimed the master of 
The Turrets with an amused smile. 

Eva nodded. But he didn’t even hang up his stock- 


310 THE LITTLE LADY OF LA VENDEE. 

ing,” she said. “ I ’spect Santa Claus didn’t know where 
to put his presents. That was it.” 

“ No doubt.” 

“ There’s only one thing I don’t like about Santa 
Claus,” remarked the little girl thoughtfully. 

“ Indeed ! and what’s that? ” inquired Captain Ransom 
in a tone of interest. 

“ Well,” said Eva, looking grave, “ he doesn’t put 
anything into poor people’s stockings. I know that, ’cos 
Dickie tolded me. Now, I don’t think that’s at all nice 
of him ; do you, your highness ? ” 

“ It’s merely the way of the world, little Eva,” his 
highness answered bitterly. “ Gold to gold ; nothing to 
nothing. You will find that out fast enough.” 

It isn’t kind, though,” Eva persisted wistfully. 

“ There’s a great deal that’s not kind on this earthy 
^ earth of ours.” 

His speech made Eva think of her friend the poor little 
London waif, and in her simple, earnest fashion she re- 
counted Lucky Sam’s too common story to Captain 
Ransom. 

He listened with great attention, his eyes gravely 
watching the animated face of the little narrator. 
“ What would you like to do for the lad, Eva ? ” he 
asked quietly when the tale was concluded. 

” I should like to give him a nice comfortable home, 
and food and clothes,” the little girl answered. ” But 
grandfather says that costs more pennies than I shall 
ever save up. Grandfather says he will try to get poor 
Lucky Sam into a home for ragged little children, but 
he’s not sure he can, ’cos they’re always so full.” 

“ You shall send the lad to such a place,” said the 
master of The Turrets suddenly ; “to a home where he 
will be well taught and fed and clothed. Not for his 


I/APP V E VER AFTER ! 


31 


sake, remember,” he added quickly and almost harshly, 
“ but for your pleasure — to satisfy your wishes. Do 
you see ? ” 

Eva was accustomed to Captain Ransom’s rather 
singular fashion of granting favors and making presents. 
His ungraciousness and grufifness did not 'strike her as 
they might ‘have struck one who knew him less inti- 
mately. “ Do you mean you will send poor little Lucky 
Sam to a home, your highness, dear?” she asked 
eagerly. “ Oh, do you really ? ” 

“ I mean that you shall send Lucky Sam, as he calls 
himself — with very poor reason I should say — to a 
home ; and I will supply the money for it,” said his 
highness, correcting her. “And I wish you clearly to 
understand that it’s for you, Eva, I do this, and not for 
the little ragamuffin, who is only one of a gang of such 
gamin and less than nothing to me.” 

“ Why do you call him a muffin ? ” asked Eva, look- 
ing puzzled. 

“ Ragamuffin — ragamuffin — a slang term for er — er — 
well, a poor person,” explained his highness with a dry 
smile. 

“ How happy poor Lucky Sam will be ! ” Eva cried 
joyfully. “ Oh, I am so glad — so glad ! ” 

“ Have you got the boy’s address ? ” 

“ He hasn’t got a ’dress,” said the child, “ He sleeps 
in carts or empty barrels or archways, poor thing. 
But I think Mrs. Meredith could find him. Shall I ask 
grandfather to help me write a letter about it to Mrs. 
Meredith, your highness ? ” 

“ Yes, you can do so as soon as you like,” he 
answered, yawning. “ And now we’ll forget Lucky Sam 
and talk about what interests me more — yourself. 
What did you do in London, Eva — eh ? Tell me about it.” 


312 


THE LITTLE LAD Y OF LA VENDER. - 


“ There, that ’minds me of your present, ogre dear ! ” 
cried the little girl, jumping down eagerly from her high 
chair. It’s in the hall. I’ll go and fetch it this very 
minute.” She ran out of the room and came skipping 
back carrying a large brown-paper parcel, which she 
carefully placed on a little table that stood close beside 
the invalid’s couch. 

“ I can’t undo it,” he said ; “ my back’s too painful for 
me to move to-day. Can your small fingers manage the 
string, little lady ; or shall we ring for John’s assistance ? ” 

” Oh, I can do it,” answered Eva eagerly, “ I can untie 
knots quite grandly now — papa taughted me. I do hope 
you’ll like the present, your highness.” 

“ I’ve not a doubt on the subject.” 

“ Do you feel ’cited ? I always feel ’cited when I see 
a parcel for me and don’t know what’s in it.” 

“ Oh, I’m immensely excited, I assure you.” 

“ Guess what it is, ogre dear, will you, before I take off 
the paper ? ” cried Eva eagerly. “ I’ll give you three 
guesses. Are you a good guesser — are you, your 
highness ? ” 

” Not a bit of it,” said his highness. 

Guess number one ! ” cried the child. 

Couldn’t guess for the life of me, I assure you, Eva,” 
said Captain Ransom, with a faint smile. 

“Oh, but please try,” urged Eva eagerly. “It’s such 
fun guessing, you know. And grandfather says there’s 
no knowing what one may do till one tries,” she added 
by way of encouragement. 

“ Well,” said Captain Ransom desperately, “ a — a — a 
monkey from the Zoo — is that it ? ” 

Eva thought this an intensely amusing idea, and 
laughed merrily. “Now it’s guess number two,” she 
said ; “ go on, please, ogre dear. Isn't it fun ? ” 


HAPPY EVER AFTER! 


313 


**Oh, immense fun/’ assented the ogre with a grim 
smile. “ Well, guess number two — a — well, my imagin- 
ative powers are becoming exhausted. Won’t you drop 
me a hint — eh ? ” 

“ Well, I will give you just a little help,” said Eva 
indulgently ; “ my present is in a frame. Now, can you 
guess — can you, your highness ? ” 

“ A photograph,” was his highness’s brilliant response. 

Eva clapped her hands. ” Quite right. Quite right. 
You guessed it after all, ogre dear, you see. And now 
I’ll show you whose portrait it is.” 

Captain Ransom smiled. He quite thought that Eva 
was about to present him with a likeness of her sweet 
little self. 

What was his surprise, not to say chagrin, when the 
little girl carefully lifted from its wrappings and presented 
him with a handsomely framed photograph of — Julia ! 

Yes, there was Julia, hideous, amiable, unwieldy, with 
a smart collar round her fat neck, and a graceful back- 
ground of ferns and flowers showing out to their best 
advantage her bulky figure, short bent legs, and stumpy 
tail — Julia in all the glory of her delightful ugliness, and 
wearing a smile which appeared to her little mistress 
simply charming, and struck terror to the hearts of those 
persons less intimately acquainted with the veteran’s 
good points. 

“ Ah, this is very nice — very nice,” murmured Captain 
Ransom feebly as he gazed at the portrait. A terrible 
temptation to laugh long and heartily assailed his not 
usually mirthful mind as he regarded his funny present. 
But he repressed the inclination quickly. He would not 
have hurt Eva’s feelings for worlds. She must never 
guess that he was aught else than charmed by the gift 
which she had imagined would give him pleasure. 


314 the little lady of lavender. 

So, “ It’s really charming,” he said with as much 
animation as he could muster. 

“Ah! I thoughted you would like it,” exclaimed 
Eva triumphantly. “ I had it made on purpose for you. 
Julia wasn’t at all p’lite to the gentleman who made it. 
She snarled at him and tried to bite his legs. He 
looked quite frightened, and I had to talk to Julia 
ser’ously. She was better behaved then.” 

“Julia has the dislike of all true British dogs to 
strangers,” remarked the master of The Turrets. “ Have 
you a picture of yourself you can give me, Eva — eh ? ” 

“ Would you like one ? ” she asked in some surprise. 
“ I thoughted you wouldn’t, ’cos you see me myself so 
often you couldn’t very well forget me, your highness 
— could you ? ” 

“ I’m not likely to forget you ; but I should like to 
have your portrait. It is probable that I shall see you 
very seldom in the future,” he answered gravely. 

“ Why is that ? ” asked Eva, looking startled. “ Is it 
’cos I tire you ? Do I make you feel iller — is that it ? ” 

“ No, it rests rather with your parents than with me. 
Perhaps you don’t know, perhaps you do, that your 
father and mother have small cause to regard me with 
favor,” he added drily. ' “ That is,” he explained, in a 
tone that was half defiant, half sad, “I did them an 
injury once, and people are wont to dislike those who 
have injured them.” 

“ Papa and mamma don’t dislike you, ogre dear, indeed 
they don’t,” said the child very earnestly. “ Papa 
bringed me here this afternoon his very own self, and 
mother’s coming to see you one day if you’ll let her. 
She tolded me so.” 

There was a moment’s silence, and then in a rather 
tremulous voice the master of The Turrets said, speaking 


HAPPY EVER AFTER! 


31s 


to himself rather than to Eva, “ I have misjudged 
them.” 

“ You see it is Christmas-time,” Eva explained, raising 
her sweet face to his attentive one and speaking very 
earnestly, “and at Christmas every one forgives each 
other, 'cos it’s the season when Jesus came to live on 
earth, and that makes everybody very glad and happy.” 
Thus in her simple, reverent fashion the Little Lady of 
Lavender preached the glad message of Noel to the 
lonely man, who would have angrily closed his ears to 
the teaching of older and wiser folk. 

“ Christmas is a season for those who have friends and 
love,” he said, “ not for a wretched, lonely cripple with 
no one to care for him. To such it seems but a bitter 
mockery ! ” 

“ But you have friends and love, your highness 
dear,” cried the little girl eagerly. “The poor people 
love you because you have been so good and kind to 
them. And am I not your little friend?” she asked 
rather wistfully. 

“ Yes, Eva,” he said, “ the truest friend I have.” 

“ You will try to ’member that you’ve got friends who 
love you, and not to feel lonely, won’t you, ogre dear ? 
I can’t bear to think of you lonely and sad, it makes me 
ever so unhappy ! ” 

• “ You are the funniest of little mortals, Eva. I believe 
you have sympathy for every one ! Well, it’s certainly a 
rare gift ! ” 

“ Does sym — sympony mean the same as love ? ” asked 
the child. 

“Well, it’s certainly a kind of love,” he explained 
rather vaguely. 

“ I love people ’cos they are so kind to me, you see,” 
said Eva simply. 


3i6 The little lady of LAVENDEF, 

“ You are a very cheerful party at the Rectory this 
Christmas, I suppose ? ” he asked rather wistfully. 

“ Yes, we are ever so happy all together,” answered 
the child with a contented little sigh. “ It’s so nice hav- 
ing dearest Mrs. Smith — that is, mother ; it makes papa 
and me 'stremely glad, ’cos you see we love her so much.” 

He was silent. 

“ It ’minds me of a fairy-tale,” said Eva thoughtfully. 
** Don’t you know how the nice fairy-tales always end, 
your highness ? ” 

How do they end ? ” his highness asked. 

Well, they always say, ‘ So everybody lived happily 
for ever afterwards.’ ” 

“ Except the villain of the piece — the wicked ogre in 
fact, who is invariably punished by being left out in the 
cold ! He serves for the moral.” 

“ Wicked ogres, but not good ogres ! cried Eva 
quickly. 

The master of The Turrets laughed. “Under which 
heading does the ogre of Lavender come, little woman ? ” 

“ He comes under the heading of good,” Eva an- 
swered promptly. 

“ Perhaps the magic wand of a certain little fairy may 
transform him yet,” said Captain Ransom, smiling. “ He 
may cast off his mantle of crustiness and selfishness 
as the enchanted Prince in the tale of ‘ Beauty and the 
Beast ’ cast off his fur skin — eh ? ” 

And though Eva scarcely understood his simile I 
think we can. 

The two friends seemed to have a great deal to talk 
about that afternoon, and it appeared to Eva that an 
hour passed away as rapidly as though it had been only 
five minutes. She was quite surprised when Johh an- 
nounced that the Rectory carriage was at the door. 


HAPPY EVER AFTER! 


317 


But it was a cold night, and the horse could not be 
kept waiting, so the little girl rose to go at once. “ May 
I bring mother to see you to-morrow, ogre dear ? ” she 
asked. 

“ Yes, if she will come,” he answered, mastering with 
an effort that impulse of pride that suggested a negative. 

” I know that she will come. She tolded me she 
would,” said Eva brightly. ” Good-night, your highness 
dear.” 

” Good-night — good-night, my little Christmas angel.” 

And when she had left him, and he had listened to 
the carriage wheels rumbling away over the hard frosty 
road, he lay thinking in that quiet twilight room, and his 
thoughts were softened — happier. And presently there 
stole upon his wearied spirit something of the Christmas 
peace, something of the love and the forgiveness that the 
Christmas message tells of, and he experienced such a 
sweet restfulness as he had never known before. 

Grandfather dear,” said Eva, when she and the 
rector happened to be alone together for a few moments 
that evening, grandfather dear, what do think the ogre 
called me to-day ? ” 

Mr. Herbert looked at the child’s bright, upturned 
face with a smile. “ What did he call you, my 
dearie ? ” 

“ It was pretty but curious,” said Eva thoughtfully, 
“ ’cos I haven’t got any wings. It was ‘ my little 
Christmas angel.’ That’s what the ogre said. Don’t 
you think it was a funny name to call me ? ” 

“ It was a pretty fancy,” answered the old clergyman 
dreamily. There are, thank God, many angels without 
wings in this world of ours, my little girl. We should 
get on sadly enough without them,” 


318 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


“ But little children can’t be angels, grandfather 
dear ? ” asked Eva, turning her thoughtful face to his. 

“They may be very like them, my little one, if they 
try. Don’t you remember your favorite verse, dearie ? — 


“To comfort and to bless. 

To find a balm for woe, 

To tend the lone and fatherless. 

Is angels’ work below. 

And all this even children can do, my Eva.” 

“ That was what Jesus did when he was a child on 
earth,” said the little girl reverently. 

“ Yes, he spent his life, even his child-life, in doing 
good,” answered Mr. Herbert 

“ That was beautiful,” said Eva very thoughtfully. 
“ Grandfather dear, do you think if I ask God every 
day to help me and try hard to be good, he will let me 
do angel’s work below though I’m only a child ? ” 

The old clergyman looked down earnestly into the 
sweet, innocent face raised to his. “ I am sure he will, 
my Eva,” he answered. 


And later in the evening, when Eva had gone to bed 
and was happily asleep, the old rector sitting alone in 
his quiet study thought over his conversation with his 
little granddaughter very earnestly. 

“ A Christmas angel ! ” Eva had certainly been as an 
angel to that lonely man in his great house away in the 
woods. She had brought the brightness of love and 
interest into his dull life. She had taught him to think 
less harshly of his fellow-creatures ; to use his wealth to 
minister to their necessities. She had shown him that 


HAPPY EVER AFTER/ 


319 


even upon earth there breathe sweet souls of innocence 
and purity which the world fails to spoil. 

And it seemed to the old clergyman a very beautiful 
thing that God should be pleased to use such a weak in- 
strument — a simple child — to work his will and to 
preach his gospel, the gospel of love and of forgiveness, 
to that wanderer from his fold. 

And then his thoughts wandered to his son and to his 
restored happiness, and thus to Eva’s mother, whom, 
before he knew her claim to the title, he had learned to 
love as a daughter. And as the good old man thought 
of the blessings that this most joyful Christmastide had 
brought to so many souls, and of the time of happy re- 
union it had been to those nearest and dearest to him, he 
breathed a grateful, heartfelt thanksgiving to him who 
giveth all. 

The bells were ringing their final peal, and Mr. 
Herbert walked to the window and, drawing back the 
curtain, looked out. 

It was a clear, starlit night, but earlier in the evening 
there had been a somev/hat heavy fall of snow, and the 
lawn and drive of the Rectory grounds were veiled as in 
a pure white mantle. 

And in the eastern sky shone the star of Eva’s dream 
— the star of Bethlehem, lighting the world with its 
clear, silvery beauty, telling in its lovely silent way the 
story of that first Christmas long ago. 

But the old rector could not see the sweet face of the 
spirit-child who had visited his little granddaughter’s 
dream, for he is only visible to the eyes of childhood. 

In the quiet room above he hovered over Eva as she 
slept, his bright wings shielding her from all evil, his 
sweet voice whispering happy dreams in her ears. 

Long may he stay with you, little Eva, long may he 


320 


THE LITTLE LADY OF LAVENDER. 


shed his pure sunshine over your heart and life, that 
spirit-child, sweet Innocence, who is the children’s 
guardian angel, and without whose gentle presence they 
can never possess that wonderful jewel — the Pearl of 
Perfect Happiness. 


THE END. 


LBJL 1)7 



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